THE  FLOWER-FIELDS 


OF 


ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 


G.FLEMWELL 


Slji'i.H.lItUaitbrarg 


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THE  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF 
ALPINE      SWITZERLAND 


THE  FLOWF^'  ^^^ELDS  OF 
ALPINF     ^^  SRLAND 

AN  APPRE(  0  A  PLEA 


(■..    I'}. I  V':^\  ''(J* 


CALTHA  PALUSTRIS  and  PRIMULA 
FARJXOSA  on  the  upper  fields  of 
Chanipc.x  towards  the  end  of  May. 


DODj 


THE  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF 
ALPINE    SWITZERLAND 

AN  APPRECIATION  AND  A  PLEA 

PAINTED  AND  WRITTEN 


G.  FLEMWELL 

AUTHOR  OF   "ALPINE   FLOWERS   AND  GARDENS' 


Into  the  fieldes  did  he  goe,  which  then  fairs  Flora  bedecked, 
■\Vith  redolent  blossoms,  0  how  grateful  to  the  sences." 

Francis  Sabie,  Pan's  Pipe. 


WITH    TWENTY-FIVE    REPRODUCTIONS 
OF      WATER-COLOUR      DRAWINGS 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

1912 


PBINTBD  IN  GREAT  BEITAIN 


MADEMOISELLE    MARTHE    DEDIE 


AND    ALL    AT 


LA   COMBE/'   ROLLE   (VAUD) 


88073 


PREFACE 

I^AST  year  Mr.  G.  Flemwell  gave  us  a  very 
beautiful  volume  upon  the  Alpine  Flora,  and  it 
has  met  with  well-deserved  success.  But  the 
author  is  not  yet  satisfied.  He  thinks  to  do 
better,  and  would  now  make  known  other  pictures 
— those  of  Alpine  fields,  especially  during  the 
spring  months. 

Springtime  in  our  Alps  is  certainly  the  most 
beautiful  moment  of  the  year,  and  the  months 
of  May  and  June,  even  to  the  middle  of  July, 
are  the  most  brilliant  of  all.  It  is  a  season  which, 
up  to  the  present,  we  have  rather  considered  as 
reserved  for  us  Swiss,  who  do  not  much  like  that 
which  is  somewhat  irreverently  called  lindustrie 
des  etrangers,  and  perhaps  we  shall  not  be  alto- 
gether enchanted  to  find  that  the  author  a  la  mode 
is  about  to  draw  the  \q\\  from  our  secrets,  open 
the   lock-gates   of  our  most   sacred  joys   to    the 


viii  PREFACE 

international  flood,  and  sound  the  clarion  to  make 
known,  urbe  et  orbi,  the  springtime  glory  of  our 
fields.  With  this  one  little  reservation  to  calm 
the  egotistical  anxiety  which  is  in  me  (Mr.  Flem- 
well,  who  is  my  colleague  in  the  Swiss  Alpine 
Club,  knows  too  well  our  national  character  not 
to  understand  the  spirit  in  which  we  make  certain 
reservations  with  regard  to  this  invasion  of  our 
mountains  by  the  cosmopolitan  crowd),  I  wish 
to  thank  the  author,  and  to  compliment  him  upon 
this  fresh  monument  which  he  raises  to  the  glory 
of  our  flowers. 

He  here  presents  them  under  a  different  aspect, 
and  shows  us  the  Alpine  field,  the  meadow,  the 
great  green  slope  as  they  transform  themselves 
in  springtime.  He  sings  of  this  rebirth  with  his 
poet-soul,  and  presents  it  in  pictures  which  are 
so  many  hymns  to  the  glory  of  the  Creator.  And 
he  is  justified  in  this,  for  nothing  in  the  world 
is  more  marvellous  than  the  re-flowering  of  Alpine 
fields  in  May  and  June.  I  have  seen  it  in  the 
little  vallons  of  Fully  and  of  Tourtemagne  in 
Valais,  in  the  fields  of  Anzeindaz  and  of  Taveyan- 
naz   (Canton   de   Vaud),   at   the   summit   of   the 


PREFACE  ix 

Gerami  and  on  the  Oberalp  in  the  Grisons ;  I 
have  seen  the  flowering  spring  in  the  Bernese 
Oberland  and  on  the  UtH  (Zurich),  in  the  vallons 
of  Savoie  and  in  those  of  Dauphine  ;  I  have  seen 
the  metamorphosis  of  the  Val  de  Bagnes  and  of 
the  Bavarian  plain,  the  transformation  of  the 
marvellous  valleys  of  Piemont  and  of  the  elevated 
valley  of  Aosta,  But  I  have  never  seen  anything 
more  beautiful  or  more  solemn  than  spring  in  the 
Jura  Mountains  of  Vaud  and  Neuchatel,  with  their 
fields  of  Anemone  alpina  and  nardssiflora,  when 
immense  areas  disappeared  under  a  deep  azure 
veil  of  Gentiana  verna  or  of  the  darker  Gentiana 
Clusii,  and  when  the  landscape  is  animated  by 
myriads  of  Viola  hifiora  or  of  Soldanella.  In 
reading  what  Mr.  Flemwell  has  written,  my  spirit 
floats  further  afield  even  than  this — to  the  Val 
del  Faene,  which  reposes  near  to  the  Bernina, 
and  I  see  over  again  a  picture  that  no  painter, 
not  even  our  author,  could  render :  the  snow, 
in  retiring  to  the  heights,  gave  place  to  a  carpet 
of  violet,  blue,  lilac,  yellow,  or  bright  pink, 
according  as  it  was  composed  of  either  Soldanella 
pusilla,    of   long,   narrow,    pendent    bells,    which 


X  PREFACE 

flowered  in  thousands  and  millions  upon  slopes 
still  brown  from  the  rigours  of  winter,  or  Gentiana 
verna,  or  Primula  integi^ifolia,  whose  dense  masses 
were  covered  with  their  lovely  blossoms,  or  Gagea 
Liotardi,  whose  brilliant  yellow  stars  shone  on 
all  sides  in  the  sun,  or  Primula  hirsuta.  All 
these  separate  masses  formed  together  a  truly 
enchanting  picture,  which  remained  unadmired  by 
strangers — since  these  had  not  yet  arrived — and 
which  I  was  happy  and  proud  to  salute  under 
the  sky  of  the  Grisons. 

Our  author  seems  to  have  a  predilection  for 
the  blue  flower  of  Gentiana  verna,  and  I  thank 
him  for  all  he  says  of  my  favourite.  When, 
at  the  age  of  ten  years,  I  saw  it  for  the  first  time, 
carpeting  the  fields  of  the  Jura  in  Vaud,  my 
child's  soul  was  so  enthusiastic  over  it  that  there 
were  fears  I  should  make  myself  ill.  This  im- 
pression, which  dates  from  1864,  is  still  as  fresh 
in  my  memory  as  if  it  were  of  yesterday.  Blue, 
true  blue,  is  so  rare  in  Nature  that  Alphonse  Karr 
could  cite  but  five  or  six  flowers  that  were  really 
so :  the  Gentian,  the  Comellina,  several  Delphi- 
niums,  the   Cornflower,    and   the  Forget-me-not. 


PREFACE  xi 

The  blue  of  the  Gentian  is  certainly  the  most 
superb  and  velvety,  especially  that  of  Gentiana 
bavarica.  A  group  of  Gentiana  verna,  brachy- 
phylla,  and  bavaiica  which  I  exhibited  at  the 
Temple  Show  in  London  in  May  1910,  and  which 
was  a  very  modest  one,  it  having  suffered  during 
the  long  voyage  from  Floraire  to  London,  was 
greatly  admired,  and  did  not  cease  to  attract  the 
regard  of  all  flower-lovers.  Blue  is  so  scarce, 
every  one  said,  that  it  is  good  to  feast  one's  eyes 
upon  it  when  one  meets  with  it ! 

The  practical  side  of  this  volume  resides  in  the 
information  it  offers  to  lovers  of  Alpine  flowers 
in  England.  One  readily  beheves  that,  in  order 
to  cultivate  these  mountain  plants,  big  surround- 
ings are  necessary :  a  great  collection  of  rocks, 
as  in  the  giant  Alpine  garden  of  Friar  Park.  We 
have  proved  in  our  garden  of  Floraire — where 
the  public  is  willingly  admitted,  and  which  flower- 
lovers  are  invited  to  visit — that  mountain  plants 
can  be  cultivated  without  rockwork,  and  that  it 
is  even  important,  if  one  wishes  to  give  an  artistic 
and  natural  aspect  to  the  garden,  not  to  be  too 
prodigal   of    rock    and    stone.       Much    verdure  is 


xii  PREFACE 

essential,  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  frame  for  the 
picture,  and  that  frame  can  only  be  obtained  by 
creating  the  Alpine  field.  One  day  at  Friar  Park, 
Sir  Frank  Crisp,  the  creator  of  this  beautiful 
alpinum,  taking  me  aside  and  making  me  walk 
around  with  him,  showed  me  a  vast,  empty 
field  which  stretched  away  to  the  north  of  the 
Matterhorn,  and  said :  "  It  is  here  that  I  wish 
to  establish  a  Swiss  field  to  soften  the  too  rocky 
aspect  of  the  garden  and  to  give  it  a  fitting  frame." 
And  since  then  I  am  unable  to  conceive  that  there 
was  ever  a  time  when  the  Alpine  garden  at  Friar 
Park  had  not  its  setting  of  Alpine  fields.  There 
was  no  idea  of  making  such  a  thing  when  the 
garden  was  begun  ;  but  once  the  rockwork  was 
finished  the  rest  imposed  itself  One  needs  the 
flower-filled  field,  Talye  en  fete,  by  the  side  of  the 
grey  rocks. 

This  is  why,  in  our  horticultural  establishment 
at  Floraire,  we  make  constant  efforts  to  repro- 
duce expanses  of  Narcissi,  Columbines,  Gentians, 
Daphnes,  Primulas,  etc.,  grouped  in  masses  as  we 
have  seen  them  in  nature,  and  as  Mr.  Flemwell 
gives  them  in  his  book. 


PREFACE  xiii 

Herein  lies  the  great  utility  of  this  volume, 
and  the  reason  why  it  will  be  consulted  with 
pleasure  by  gardeners  as  well  as  by  alpinists  and 
lovers  of  nature  generally. 

Henry  Correvon. 

Florairk,  nkar  Gen?:va, 
January  2,   1911. 


CONTENTS 

PART   I 
AN  APPRECIATION 


CHAPTER 


PAGB 


I.  Of  our  Enthusiasm  for  "  Alpines  '■'       .         .  3 

II.  Alpine  Flower-Fields 12 

III.  The  May  Fields 21 

IV.  The  Vernal  Gentian 85 

V.  In  Storm  and  Shine 48 

VI.  The  June  Meadows        .....  64 

VII.  On  Floral  Attractiveness  and  Colour.          .  86 

VIII.  The  Rhododendron 102 

IX.  The  July  Fields 114 

X.  The  Autumn  Crocus 134 

XV 


xvi  CONTENTS 

PART  II 
A    PLEJ 

CHAPTER  PAG« 

XI.     Alpine  Fields  for  England  ....  149 

XII.     Some  Ways  and  Means  ....  162 

L'Envoi 179 

INDEX 189 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

1.  Caltha  palustris  and  Primula  farinosa  on  the  upper  fields  of 

Champex  towards  the  end  of  May      .         .         .         Frontispiece 

FACIKQ   PAGE 

2.  Gentiana  verna  and  Primula  farinosa  on  the  lower  fields  of 

Champex  towards  the  end  of  Mav.  with  T>art  of  tho  mnsxif 


The  original  water-colours  reproduced  in  this  volume  are 
exhibited,  and  will  remain  on  sale,  at  the  Dore  Galleries,  New 
Bond  Street,  London,  where  all  inquiries  may  be  addressed. 


backed  by  the  Groupe  du  Grand  Saint-Bernard  et  du  Grand 
Golliaz 32 

7.  The  Paradise  Lily  {Paradisia  Liliastrum)  near  the  Glacier  de 

Trieut  about  the  middle  of  June         .....       40 

8.  June  meadows  of  Salvia,  Lychnis,  etc.,  in  the  Val  Ferret, 

just  before  arriving  at  the  village  of  Praz  de  Fort       .         .       48 

9.  Field  of  Campanula  rhomboidalis  on  the  Col  de  la  Forclaz 

about  the  beginning  of  July 5G 

10.  In  the  early-July  fields  at  Champex 04 

11.  Evening  among  the  fields  of  pink  Bistort  at  Lac  Champex; 

sunset-glow  on  the  Grand  Combin,  July    ....       72 
b  xviii 


xviii  LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING    PAGE 

1 2.  Haymaking  at  Cliampex  in  the  middle  of  July       ...       80 

13.  The  Autumn  Crocus  in  the  fields  near  the  village  of  Trient, 

with  the  Aiguille  du  Tour  in  the  background,  September  .       88 

14.  Anemone  sulphurea  and  Gentiana  excisa  painted  directly  in 

the  fields  at  the  end  of  May 96 

15.  Primula  farinosa,   Gentiana  verna,  Micheli's  Daisy,  Bartsia 

alpina,  Polygala  alpina,  and  the  two  Pinguiculas  or  Butter- 
worts,  painted  directly  in  the  fields  at  the  end  of  May        .     104 

10.   Gt-mVarirt  ?)e?*na,  the  type-plant,  and  some  of  its  forms    .         .112 

17.  Geranium  syhiaticum,  Potentilla  rupestris,  Centaurea  montana, 

the  pink  Bistort,  the  little  Alpine  Bistort,  painted  on  the 
spot  in  the  fields  at  the  beginning  of  July .         .         .         .120 

18.  P«ra«?i.«a  Z?7;a*^rMTO,  the  Paradise  or  St.  Bruno's  Lily   .         .     128 

19.  Rosa  alpina,  the  thornless  Alpine  Eglantine  ....     136 

20.  Young  plants  of  Veratrum  album,  together  with  Salvia  pra- 

tensis,  Phyteuma  betonicaefoHum,  P.  orbiculare,  the  white 
and  the  yellow  Euphrasia,  and  the  yellow  ('lover,  drawn 
on  the  spot  at  the  beginning  of  July  .....     144 

21.  Arnica,  the  Brown  Gentian  (G.  purpurea).  Campanula  bar- 

bata,  and  the  fiery  little  Hieracium  aurantiacum,  painted 
from  life  in  the  fields  towards  the  middle  of  July       .         .152 

22.  The  tall  yellow  Eypochoeris  xmiflora,  Centaurea  uniflora,  the 

Golden  Hawkweed  (Crepis  aurea),  drawn  from  life  in  the 
July  fields 160 

23.  Gentiana  campestris  and  Gentiana  bavariea      ....     168 

24.  Astrantia  major,  A.  minor,  and  the  Apollo  butterfly       .         .     176 

25.  The  Willow  Gentian  {G.  asclepiadea)  and  the  Alpine  Cotton 

Grass  {Eriophorum  Scheuchzeri)  .....     182 


PART    I 
AN   APPRECIATION 

Ensnared  with  flo\vers_,  I  fall  on  grass." 

Andrew  Marveix. 


GENTIAN  A  VERNA  and  PRIMULA  FARI- 
NOSA  on  the  lower  fields  of  Champex 
towards  the  end  of  May,  with  part  of 
the  MASSIF  of  Saleinaz  in  the  back- 
ground. 


CHAPTER    I 

OF    OUR   ENTHUSIASM    FOR    "  ALPINES  " 

"  We  are  here  dealing  with  one  of  tlie  strongest  intellectual  im- 
pulses of  rational  beings.  Animals,  as  a  rule,  trouble  themselves  but 
little  about  anything  unless  they  want  either  to  eat  it  or  to  run  away 
from  it.  Interest  in,  and  wonder  at,  the  works  of  nature  and  of  the 
doings  of  man  are  products  of  civilisation,  and  excite  emotions  which 
do  not  diminish,  but  increase  with  increasing  knowledge  and  cultiva- 
tion. Feed  them  and  they  grow  ;  minister  to  them  and  they  will 
greatly  multiply."— The  Rt.  Hon.  A.  J.  Balfour,  in  hh-  Address 
a.s  Lord  Hector  oj  St.  Andrews  University,  December  10,  1887. 

Some  excuse — or  rather,  some  explanation — 
seems  to  be  needed  for  daring  to  present  yet 
another  book  upon  the  Alpine  Flora  of  Switzerland. 
So  formidable  is  the  array  of  such  books  already, 
and  so  persistently  do  additions  appear,  that  it  is 
not  without  diffidence  that  I  venture  to  swell  the 
numbers,  and,  incidentally,  help  to  fill  the  new 
subterranean  chamber  of  the  Bodleian. 

With  the  author  of  "  Du  Vrai,  Du  Beau,  et 
Du  Bien,"  I  feel  that  "  Moins  la  musique  fait  de 
bruit  et  plus  elle  touche "  ;   I   feel  that  reticence 

3 


O,   H.  H\LU  UBRARY 

North  Carolina  State  Coliegfe 


4    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

rather  than  garruUty  is  at  the  base  of  well-being, 
and  that,  if  the  best  interests  of  the  cult  of 
Alpines  be  studied,  any  over-production  of  books 
upon  the  subject  should  be  avoided,  otherwise  we 
are  likely  to  be  face  to  face  with  the  danger  of 
driving  this  particular  section  of  the  plant-world 
within  that  zone  of  appreciation  "  over  which  hangs 
the  veil  of  familiarity." 

Few  acts  are  more  injudicious,  more  unkind, 
or  more  destructive  than  that  of  overloading. 
"  The  last  straw "  will  break  the  back  of  any- 
thing, not  alone  of  a  camel.  One  who  is 
mindful  of  this  truth  is  in  an  anxious  position 
when  he  finds  himself  one  of  a  thousand 
industrious  builders  busily  bent  upon  adding 
straw  upon  straw  to  the  back  of  one  special 
subject. 

It  were  a  thousand  pities  if,  for  want  of 
moderation,  Alpines  should  go  the  way  Sweet  Peas 
are  possibly  doomed  to  go — the  way  of  all  over- 
ridden enthusiasms.  Extravagant  attention  is  no 
new  menace  to  the  welfare  of  that  we  set  out 
to  admire  and  to  cherish,  and  it  were  pity  of  pities 
if,  for  lack  of  seemly  restraint,  the  shy  and  lovely 
denizens  of  the  Alps  should  arrive  at  that  place  in 
our  intimacy  where  they  will  no  longer  be  generally 


OF   OUR   ENTHUSIASM   FOR   "ALPINES"       5 

regarded  with  thoughtt'ul  respect  and  intelligent 
wonder,  but  will  be  obliged  to  retire  into  the 
oblivion  which  so  much  surrounds  those  things 
immediately  and  continuously  imder  our  noses. 
For,  of  all  plants,  they  merit  to  be  of  our  abiding 
treasures. 

But  just  because  we  haAe  come  to  the  opinion 
that  Alpines  stand  in  need  of  less  "  bush,"  it  does 
not  necessarily  follow  that  we  must  be  sparing 
of  our  attention.  There  is  ample  occasion  for  an 
extension  of  honest,  balanced  intimacy.  What  we 
have  to  fear  is  an  irrational  freak-enthusiasm 
similar  to  tlie  seventeenth-century  craze  for  Tulips 
— a  craze  of  which  La  Bruyere  so  trenchantly 
speaks  in  referring  to  an  acquaintance  who  was 
swept  off'  his  feet  by  the  monstrous  prevailing 
wave.  "  God  and  Nature,"  he  says,  "  are  not 
in  his  thoughts,  for  they  do  not  go  beyond  the 
bulb  of  his  tulip,  which  he  would  not  sell  for  a 
thousand  pounds,  though  he  will  gi\e  it  you  for 
nothing  when  tulips  are  no  longer  in  fashion, 
and  carnations  are  all  the  rage.  This  rational 
being,  w^ho  has  a  soul  and  professes  some  religion, 
comes  home  tired  and  half  starved,  but  very 
pleased  with  his  day's  work.  He  has  seen  some 
tulips."      Now   this   was  enthusiasm    of  a  degree 


6     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

and  kind  which  could  not  possibly  endure  ;  reaction 
was  bound  to  come.  Of  course,  it  was  an  extreme 
instance  of  fashion  run  mad,  and  one  of  which 
Alpines  may  never  perhaps  provoke  a  repetition. 
Yet  we  shall  do  well  to  see  a  warning  in  it. 

I  think  I  hear  enthusiastic  lovers  of  Alpines 
protesting  that  there  is  no  fear  whatever  of  such 
an  eventuality  for  their  gems,  because  these  latter 
are  above  all  praises  and  attentions  and  cannot  be 
overrated.  I  fancy  I  hear  the  enthusiasts  explaining 
that  Alpines  are  not  Sweet  Peas,  or  Tulips,  or 
double  Show  Dahlias  ;  that  they  occupy  a  place 
apart,  a  place  such  as  is  occupied  by  the  hot-house 
and  greenhouse  Orchids,  a  place  unique  and  un- 
assailable. And  these  protestations  may  quite 
possibly  prove  correct ;  I  only  say  that,  in  view  of 
precedents,  there  lurks  a  tendency  towards  the 
danger  named,  and  that  it  therefore  behoves  all 
those  who  have  the  solid  welfare  of  these  plants 
at  heart  to  be  on  their  guard,  to  discourage  mere 
empty  attentions,  and  to  do  what  is  possible  to 
direct  enthusiasm  into  sound,  intelligent  channels. 
"  An  ignorant  worship  is  a  poor  substitute  for  a 
just  appreciation."  Aye,  but  it  is  often  more  than 
this ;  it  is  often  a  dangerous  one. 

Already  the  admiration  and  attention  meted  out 


OF   OUR   ENTHUSIASM  FOR   "ALPINES"       7 

to  Alpines  is  being  spoken  of  as  a  fashion,  a  rage, 
and  a  craze ;  and  we  know  that  there  is  no  smoke 
without  fire.  Certainly,  the  same  language  has 
been  used  towards  the  enthusiasm  shown  for 
Orchids.  But  Orchids  have  nought  to  fear  from 
that  degree  of  popularisation  which  impinges  upon 
vulgarisation.  The  prices  they  command  and  the 
expense  attendant  upon  their  culture  afford  them 
important  protection — a  protection  which  Alpines 
do  not  possess  to  anything  like  the  same  extent. 

Of  course,  the  fate  in  store  for  Alpines  in 
England  is  not  of  so  inevitable  a  nature  as  that 
awaiting  Japanese  gardening ;  for  in  this  latter 
"  craze "  there  is  an  element  scarcely  present  in 
Alpine  gardening.  We  can  more  or  less  fathom 
the  spirit  of  Alpine  gardening  and  are  therefore 
quite  able  to  construct  something  that  shall  be 
more  or  less  intelligent  and  true  ;  but  can  we  say 
as  much  for  ourselves  with  regard  to  Japanese 
gardening?  I  think  not.  I  think  that  largely  it 
is,  and  must  remain,  a  sealed  book  to  us.  Japanese 
gardening,  as  Miss  Du  Cane  very  truly  points  out 
in  her  Preface  to  "  The  Flowers  and  Gardens  of 
Japan,"  is  "  tlie  most  complicated  form  of  garden- 
ing in  the  world."  Who  in  England  will  master 
the  "  seven  schools  "  and  absorb  all  the  philosophy 


8     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

and  subtle  doctrine  which  governs  them  ?  Who 
in  England  will  bring  himself  to  see  a  rock,  a  pool, 
a  bush  as  the  Japanese  gardener  sees  them,  as, 
indeed,  the  Japanese  people  in  general  see  them  ? 
The  spirit  of  Japanese  gardening  is  as  fundamentally 
different  from  the  spirit  of  English  gardening  as  that 
of  Japanese  art  is  from  English  art.  What  poor, 
spiritless  results  we  have  when  English  art  assumes 
the  guise  of  Japanese  art !  It  is  imitation  limping 
leagues  behind  its  model.  And  it  is  this  because 
it  is  unthought,  unfelt,  unrealized. 

Strikingly  individual,  the  Japanese  outlook  is 
much  more  impersonal  than  is  ours.  Needs 
must  that  we  be  born  into  the  traditions  of 
such  a  race  to  comprehend  and  feel  as  it  does 
about  Nature.  A  Japanese  must  have  his  rocks, 
streams,  trees  proportioned  to  his  tea  or  dwelling 
house  and  bearing  mystic  religious  significance. 
Such  particular  strictness  is  the  product  of  ages  of 
upbringing.  A  few  years,  a  generation  or  two 
could  not  produce  in  us  the  reasoned  nicety  of  this 
phase  of  appreciation  ;  still  less  the  reading  of 
some  book  or  the  visit  to  some  garden  built  by 
Japanese  hands.  The  spirit  of  a  race  is  of  far 
longer  weaving ;  one  summer  does  not  make  a 
butterfly  ; 


it  1 

^AC    CHAMPEX    in    cloud-land   at  the    end    of 
May;       C  ALT  HA       PALUSTRIS       and 
i.i,.  PRIMULA     FA  RINGS  A     by     the    water 

edge. 


OF   OUR   ENTHUSIASM   FOR   "ALPINES"      9 

"...  think  of  all 
The  suns  that  go  to  make  one  speedwell  blue."" 

To  us  a  tiny  chalet  is  quite  well  placed  amid 
stupendous  clifts  and  huge,  tumbled  boulders,  and 
is  fit  example  to  follow,  if  only  we  are  able  to  do 
so.  In  Alpine  gardening  we  feel  no  need  to  study 
the  size  of  our  rocks  in  relation  to  oiu*  summer- 
house,  or  place  them  so  that  they  express  some 
high  philosophic  or  mystic  principle.  We  have  no 
cult  beyond  Nature's  own  cult  in  this  matter. 
We  see,  and  we  are  content  to  see,  that  Nature 
has  no  nice  plan  and  yet  is  invariably  admirable ; 
we  see,  and  we  are  content  to  see,  that  if  man,  as 
in  Switzerland,  chooses  to  plant  his  insignificant 
dwelling  in  the  midst  of  great,  disorderly  rocks 
and  crowded  acres  of  brilliant  blossoms,  it  is 
romantic  garden  enough  and  worthy  of  as  close 
imitation  as  possible. 

With  the  Japanese,  gardening  is  perhaps  more 
a  deeply  aesthetic  culture  than  it  is  the  culture  of 
plants.  Where  we  are  bald,  unemotional,  "  scienti- 
fic "  gardeners,  they  will  soar  high  into  the  clouds 
of  philosophic  mysticism.  Truer  children  of  the 
Cosmos  than  we  Western  materialists,  they  walk 
in  their  gardens  as  in  some  religious  rite.  We,  too, 
no  doubt,  are  often  dreamers ;  we,  too,  are  often 


10     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF   ALPIxNE  SWITZERLAND 

wont  to  find  in  our  gardens  expression  for  our 
searching  inner-consciousness  ;  but  how  different 
are  our  methods,  how  different  the  spirit  we  wish 
to  express. 

The  most,  therefore,  we  can  accompHsh  in 
Japanese  modes  of  gardening  is  to  ape  them  ;  and 
of  this,  because  of  its  emptiness,  we  shall  very 
soon  tire.  The  things  which  are  most  enduring 
are  the  things  honestly  felt  and  thought ;  for  the 
expression  of  the  true  self  reaches  out  nearest  to 
satisfaction.  Unless,  then,  we  are  apes  in  more 
than  ancestry,  Japanese  gardening  can  have  no 
long  life  among  us.  Alpine  gardening  is  far  more 
akin  to  our  natural  or  hereditary  instincts ;  it  holds 
for  us  the  possibility  of  an  easier  and  more  honest 
appreciation.  And  it  is  just  here,  in  this  very  fact, 
where  lies  much  of  the  danger  which  may  overtake 
and  smother  the  immense  and  growing  enthusiasm 
with  which  Alpines  are  meeting. 

How  best,  then,  to  direct  and  build  up  this 
enthusiasm  into  something  substantial,  something 
that  shall  secure  for  Alpines  a  lasting  place  in  our 
affections  ?  The  answer  is  in  another  question : 
What  better  than  a  larger,  more  comprehensive 
appeal  to  Alpine  nature  ;  what  better  than  a  more 


OF   OUR   ENTHUSIASM   FOR    ''ALPINES'     11 

thorough   translation    of   Alpine   circumstance   to 
our  grounds  and  gardens  ? 

Now,  to  this  end  we  must  look  around  us  in  the 
Alps  to  find  that  element  in  plant-life  which  we 
have  hitherto  neglected  ;  and  if  we  do  this,  our 
eyes  must  undoubtedly  alight  upon  the  fields. 
Hitherto  these  have  been  a  greatly  neglected 
quantity  with  us  when  planning  our  Alpine 
gardens,  and  their  possibilities  have  been  almost 
entirely  overlooked  in  respect  of  our  home-lands. 
Why  should  we  not  make  more  pronounced  at- 
tempts to  create  such  meadows,  either  as  befitting 
adjuncts  to  our  rockworks  or  as  embellishments  to 
our  parks  ?  I  venture  to  think  that  such  an  ex- 
tension and  direction  of  our  enthusiasm  would  add 
much  sterling  popularity  to  that  already  acquired 
by  Alpines  in  our  midst,  besides  doing  far  greater 
justice  to  many  of  their  number.  I  venture  to 
think,  also,  that  it  would  add  much  to  the  joy  and 
health  of  home-life.  These  thoughts,  therefore, 
shall  be  developed  and  examined  as  we  push  for- 
ward with  this  volume,  first  of  all  making  a  careful 
study  of  the  fields  on  the  spot,  and  marking  their 
"  moods  and  tenses." 


CHAPTER   II 


ALPINE    FI.OWER-FTET-DS 


"  If  you  go  to  the  open  lielrt,  you  shall  always  he  in  contact  directly 
with  the  Nature.  You  hear  how  sweetly  those  innocent  birds  are 
singing.  You  see  how  beautifully  those  meadow-flowers  are  blossom- 
ing. .  .  .  Everything  you  are  observing  there  is  pure  and  sacred. 
And  you  yourselves  are  unconsciously  converted  into  purity  by  the 
Nature." — Y'oshio  MARKit^o,  My  Jdeakd  John  BuUess. 

Alpine  Fi>ower-fields  ;  it  is  well  that  we  should 
at  once  come  to  some  understanding  as  to  the 
term  "Alpine"  and  what  it  is  here  intended  to 
convey,  otherwise  it  will  be  open  to  misinterpre- 
tation. Purists  in  the  use  of  words  will  be  nearer 
to  our  present  meaning  than  they  who  have  in 
mind  the  modern  and  general  acceptation  of  the 
words  "  Alp  "  and  "  Alpine."  The  authority  of 
custom  has  confirmed  these  words  in  what,  really, 
is  faulty  usage.  "  Alp  "  really  means  a  mountain 
pasturage,  and  its  original  use,  traceable  for  more 
than  a  thousand  years,  relates  to  any  part  of  a 
mountain  where   the    cattle   can   graze.     It   does 

12 


ALPINE   FLOWER-FIELDS  13 

not  mean  merely  the  snow-clad  summit  of  some 
important  mountain.  Nor  does  "  Alpine "  mean 
that  region  of  a  mountain  which  is  above  the 
tree-hmit. 

Strictly,  then,  Alpine  circumstance  is  circum- 
stance surrounding  the  mountain  pasturages, 
whether  these  latter  be  known  popularly  as  Alpine 
or  as  sub-Alpine.  To  the  popular  mind — to-day 
to  a  great  extent  amongst  even  the  Swiss  them- 
selves— Alpine  heights  at  once  suggest  what  Mr. 
E.  F.  Benson  calls  "  white  altitudes  "  ;  but  that 
should  not  be  the  suggestion  conveyed  here.  For 
present  purposes  it  should  be  clearly  understood 
that  the  term  "  Alpine  pastures  "  is  used  in  its 
old,  embracive  sense,  and  that  sub- Alpine  pastures 
are  included  and,  indeed,  predominate. 

Of  course,  we  may  be  obliged  to  bow  occa- 
sionally to  a  custom  that  has  so  obliterated 
original  meanings,  or  we  shall  risk  becoming  un- 
intelligible ;  we  may  from  time  to  time  be  obliged 
to  use  the  word  "  sub- Alpine  "  for  the  lower  sphere 
in  Alpine  circumstance  (although,  really  and  truly, 
the  word  should  suggest  circumstance  removed 
from  off  the  Alps — circumstance  purely  and  simply 
of  the  plains).  We  shall  therefore  do  well  to 
accept  the  definition  of  "  sub-Alpine "   given    by 


14     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Dr.  Percy  Groom  in  the  "  General  Introduction  to 
Ball's  Alpine  Guide," — "the  region  of  coniferous 
trees."  Yet,  at  the  same  time,  it  must  be  clearly 
understood  that  our  use  of  the  term  "  Alpine " 
embraces  this  sub- Alpine  region. 

It  is  absolutely  necessary  to  start  with  this 
understanding,  because,  in  talking  here — or,  for 
that  matter,  anywhere — of  Alpine  plants  we  shall 
be  talking  much  of  sub -Alpine  plants.  After  all, 
our  own  gardens  warrant  this.  Our  Alpine 
rockeries  are,  in  point  of  fact,  very  largely  sub- 
Alpine  with  regard  to  the  plants  which  find  a 
place  upon  them.  As  laid  down  in  the  present 
writer's  "Alpine  Flowers  and  Gardens,"  it  is  difficult, 
if  not  impossible,  to  draw  any  definite  line,  even 
for  the  strictest  of  Alpine  rock-gardening,  between 
Alpines  and  sub- Alpines.  The  list  would  indeed 
be  shorn  and  abbreviated  which  would  exclude 
all  subjects  not  found  solely  above  the  pine-limit. 
A  ban  would  have  to  be  placed  upon  the  best 
of  the  Gentians,  the  two  Astrantias,  the  Paradise 
and  the  Martagon  Lily,  to  mention  nothing  of 
Campanulas,  Pinks,  Geraniums,  Phyteumas,  Saxi- 
frages, Hieraciums,  and  a  whole  host  of  other 
precious  and  distinctive  blossoms.  It  would  never 
do  ;  our  rockworks  would  be  robbed  of  their  best 


ALPINE   FLOWER-FIELDS  15 

and  brightest.  Therefore,  because  there  is  much 
that  is  Alpine  in  sub-Alpine  vegetation  (just  as 
there  is  much  that  is  sub- Alpine  in  Alpine  vege- 
tation) we  must,  at  any  rate  for  the  purposes  of 
this  volume,  adhere  to  the  etymology  of  the  word 
"  Alpine,"  and  give  the  name  without  a  murmur 
to  the  middle  and  lower  mountain-fields,  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  spirit  in  which  we  give  the  name 
to  our  mixed  rockworks  in  England. 

No  need  for  us  to  travel  higher  than  from 
4,000  to  5,000  feet  (and  we  may  reasonably  de- 
scend to  some  3,000  or  2,500  feet).  No  need 
whatever  to  scramble  to  the  high  summer  pastures 
on  peak  and  col  (0,000  to  7,000  feet),  where 
abound  "  Ye  living  flowers  that  skirt  the  eternal 
frost  " ;  where,  around  a  pile  of  stones  or  signal, 
solitary  Swallow-tail  butterflies  love  to  disport 
themselves ;  where  the  sturdy  cowherd  invokes  in 
song  his  patron-saint,  St.  Wendelin ;  and  where 
the  pensive  cattle  browse  and  chew  the  cud  for 
a  brief  and  ideal  spell.  No  need  to  seek,  for 
instance,  the  rapid  pastures  around  the  summit  of 
Mount  Cray,  or  on  the  steep  col  between  the 
Gummfluh  and  the  liubly,  if  we  are  at  Chateau 
d'Oex  ;  or  to  toil  to  the  Col  de  Balme  or  to  the 
'^  look-out "  on  the  Arpille,  if  we  are  at  the  Col 


16    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

de  la  Forclaz  ;  or  to  scale  the  Pas  d'Ensel  or  the 
Col  de  Coux,  if  we  are  at  Champery ;  or  to 
clamber  to  the  Croix  de  Javernaz,  if  we  are  at 
Les  Plans  ;  or  to  follow  the  hot  way  up  to  the 
Col  de  la  Gueuiaz,  if  we  are  at  Finliaut ;  or  to 
take  train  to  the  grazing-grounds  on  the  summit 
of  the  Rochers  de  Naye,  if  we  are  at  Caux  or  at 
Les  Avants.  We  shall  find  all  we  desire — as  at 
Randa,  Zermatt,  Binn,  B^risal,  or  Evolena — within 
a  saunter  of  the  hotels.  Such  fields  as  are  abo\  e 
are,  for  the  far  greater  part,  used  solely  for  grazing, 
and  we  must  stay  where  most  are  reserved  for 
hay.  Here  we  shall  find  the  particular  flora  we 
require,  and  shall  be  able  to  study  it  without  let 
or  hindrance  from  "  the  tooth  of  the  goat "  and 
cow.  The  only  hindrance  will  be  when  those 
strict  utilitarians,  the  haymakers,  appear  and 
change  our  colour-full  Eden  into  a  green  and 
park-like  domain,  with  here  and  there  a  neglected 
corner  to  remind  us  of  what  a  rich  prospect  was 
ours — 

"  Till  the  shining  scythes  went  far  and  wide 
And  cut  it  down  to  dry."" 

Tims,  we  are  to  remain  in  a  region  comfortably 
accessible  to  the  average  easy-going  visitor  to  the 


iJlJi 


Jlc   noi   Wriy   up   Lc>    tiie 
iTP  nt  Finhaiit  :    or  tn 


'^'^^'tROLLIUS   EUROPAEUS,  the  Globe  Flower, 

^^'^J-  on  the  cloud-swept  fields  in  early  June.     '^^    ^^ 


scvthes  went  t 

.vmi 

we  are  to  remain 
the  aver 


>v«?i 


4 


y 


**' 


ALPINE   FLOWER-FIELDS  17 

Alps — the  region  in  wliich  so  well-found  a  place 
as  Lac  Champex  is  situated. 

And  what  a  wondrous  region  it  is,  this  which 
is  of  sufficient  altitude  for  Nature  to  be  tin-own 
right  out  of  what,  in  the  plains,  is  her  normal  habit ; 
where  the  Cherry-tree,  if  planted,  blooms  only 
about  the  middle  of  June ;  where  the  Eglantine 
is  in  full  splendour  in  the  middle  of  July  and  can 
be  gathered  well  into  August ;  where  the  black- 
bird is  still  piping  at  the  end  of  July ;  where  the 
wild  Laburnum  is  in  blossom  in  August ;  and 
where  quantities  of  ripe  fruit  of  the  wild  Currant, 
Raspberry,  and  Strawberry  may  be  picked  in 
September. 

And  Champex,  too,  what  a  ftivoured  and  beauti- 
ful place  !  I  have  chosen  this  particular  spot  as 
the  "  base  of  operations,"  because  of  its  variety  in 
physical  aspect,  and,  consequently,  its  variety  in 
flowers.  This  plan  I  have  deemed  of  more  use 
than  to  wander  from  place  to  place,  and  I  think 
that,  on  the  whole,  it  will  be  fair  to  the  Swiss 
Alpine  field-flora.  We  can  take  note  from  time 
to  time  of  what  is  not  to  be  found  here ;  for,  of 
course,  Champex  does  not  possess  all  the  varieties 
of  Alpine  field-flowers.  Liliuui  croceum,  Aiiemotie 
alpina,  Narcin.ntii  poeticus,  and    the    Daffodil  are, 


18     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

for  instance,  notable  absentees.  The  soil  is  granitic 
rather  than  calcareous.  Yet,  taking  all  in  all,  the 
flora  is  wonderfully  representative  ;  and  it  certainly 
is  exceptionally  rich. 

Situated  upon  what  is  really  a  broad,  roomy 
col  between  the  Catogne  and  that  extreme  western 
portion  of  the  Mont  Blanc  massif  containing  the 
Aiguille  du  Tour  and  the  Pointe  d'Orny,  Champex, 
with  its  sparkling  lake  and  cluster  of  hotels  and 
chalets,  dominates  to  the  south  the  valleys  of 
Ferret  and  Entremont,  and  to  the  north  the  valley 
of  the  Dranse,  thus  offering  rich,  well-watered 
pasture-slopes  of  varied  aspect  and  capacity. 
Whether  it  be  upon  the  undulating  pastures 
falling  away  to  the  Gorges  du  Durnand,  or  upon 
the  steeper  fields  leading  down  to  Praz-de-Fort 
and  Orsieres,  1,000  and  2,000  feet  below ;  or 
whether  it  be  upon  the  luxuriant,  marshy  meadows 
immediately  around  the  lake,  or  upon  the  slightly 
higher,  juicy  grass-land  of  the  wild  and  picturesque 
Val  d'Arpette,  there  is  an  ever-changing  and 
gorgeous  luxury  of  colour  which  must  be  seen 
to  be  believed.  "  The  world's  a-flower,"  and  a- 
flower  without  one  single  trace  of  sameness. 
Whichever  way  we  walk,  whichever  way  we  gaze, 
the   eye   meets   with    some   fresh   combination   of 


ALPINE   FLOWER-FIELDS  19 

tints,  some  new  and  jirresting  congregation  of  field- 
flowers. 

It  is  too  much,  perhaps,  to  say  of  any  place  that 
it  is 

"The  only  point  where  human  hliss  stands  still, 
And  tastes  the  good  without  the  fall  to  ill." 

But  if  such  eulogy  ever  were  permissible  it  would 
be  so  of  Champex  and  her  flower-strewn  fields 
and  slopes  in  May  and  June  and  early  in  July. 
In  any  case,  we  may  unquestionably  allow  ourselves 
to  quote  further  of  Pope's  lines  and  say  that,  amid 
these  fields,  if  anywhere,  we  are  able  to 

"  Grasp  the  whole  world  of  reason,  life,  and  sense, 
In  one  close  system  of  benevolence." 

Like  Elizabeth  of  "  German  Garden  "  fame,  we 
English  love,  and  justly  love,  our  "  world  of 
dandelions  and  delights."  We  find  our  meadows 
transcend  all  others,  and,  in  them — still  like 
Elizabeth — we  "  forget  the  very  existence  of  every- 
thing but  .  .  .  the  glad  blowing  of  the  wind  across 
the  joyous  fields."  But  in  this  pride  there  is  room, 
I  feel  sure,  for  welcome  revelation.  I  can  imagine 
few  things  that  would  more  increase  delight  in  a 
person  familiar  only  with  English  meadows  than 
to  be  suddenly  set  down  among  the  fields  of  the 


20    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Alps  in  either  May,  or  June,  or  early  July.  What 
would  he,  or  she,  then  feel  about  "  the  glad  blowing 
of  the  wind  across  the  joyous  fields  "  ?  It  would 
surely  entail  a  very  lively  state  of  ecstasy. 

And  if  only  we  had  at  home  these  grass-lands 
of  Champex  !  Such  hayfields  in  England  would 
create  a  furore.  Hourly  excursions  would  be  run 
to  where  they  might  be  found.  Lovers  of  the  beau- 
tiful would  be  amazed,  then  overjoyed,  and  lost 
in  admiration.  Farmers,  too,  would  likewise  be 
amazed^then  look  askance  and  rave  about  "bad 
farming."  Undoubtedly  there  would  be  a  war  of 
interests.  Upon  which  side  would  be  the  greater 
righteousness,  it  is  not  easy  to  decide  ;  but  presently 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  look  into  the  matter 
more  closely.  In  the  meantime,  no  particular 
daring  is  required  to  predict  that,  if  these  meadows 
came  to  our  parks  and  gardens,  they  would  come 
to  stay. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    MAY    FIELDS 

"This  is  the  hour,  the  day, 
The  time,  the  season  sweet. 
Quick  !  hasten,  laggard  feet. 
Brook  not  delay  ; 

.   .  .   Maytide  will  not  last ; 
Forth,  forth,  while  yet  'tis  time,  before  the 
Spring  is  past." 

Lewis  Morris,  Time  to  Bejoice. 

It  is  essential  that  we  arrive  amid  the  Alpine 
fields  in  May ;  for  we  must  watch  them  from  the 
very  beginning.  To  postpone  our  coming  until 
June  would  be  to  miss  what  is  amongst  the 
primest  of  Alpine  experiences  :  the  awakening  of 
the  earlier  gems  in  their  shy  yet  trustful  legions. 
Indeed,  in  June  in  any  ordinary  year,  we  should 
risk  finding  several  lovely  plants  gone  entirely 
out  of  bloom,  except  perhaps  quite  sparsely  in 
some    belated    snow-clogged    corner ;    for,    be    it 

21 


22    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

remembered,  we  shall  not  be  climbing  higher  than 
this  region  :  we  do  not  propose  to  pursue  Flora 
as  she  ascends  to  the  topmost  pasture.  As  for 
following  the  very  general  rule  and  coming  only 
in  late  July,  it  is  quite  out  of  the  question.  We 
must  come  in  May ;  and  it  should  be  towards  the 
middle  of  the  month — although  the  exact  date 
will,  of  course,  be  governed  by  the  advanced  or 
retarded  state  of  the  season.  Speaking  generally, 
however,  the  15th  is  usually  neither  too  early  nor 
too  late.  It  is  wiser  to  be  a  day  or  so  too  early 
than  otherwise,  because  at  this  altitude  it  is  re- 
markable how  soon  Nature  is  wide  awake  when 
once  she  has  opened  her  eyes.  The  earliest  floral 
effects  are  of  the  most  fleeting  in  the  Alps  ;  and, 
like  most  things  fleeting  in  this  changeful  world, 
they  are  of  the  most  lovely.  To  some  it  may 
appear  laughable  to  say  that  one  day  is  of  vast 
importance  ;  but  it  is  only  the  truth.  Down  on 
the  plains  things  are  positively  sluggish  by  com- 
parison (though  an  artist,  wishing  to  paint  them 
at  their  best,  knows  only  too  well  how  rapid  even 
are  these).  As  in  Greenland,  up  here,  at  4,800 
feet,  vegetation  adapts  itself  in  all  practical  earnest 
to  the  exigencies  of  shortened  seasons.  June's 
glories  are  quick  in  passing  ;  so,  alas,  are  July's  ; 


THE   MAY   FIELDS  23 

but  the  glories  of  May,  having  usually  but  a  brief 
portion  of  the  month  in  which  to  develop,  pass, 
as  it  were,  at  breathless  speed. 

Yes,  if  ever  there  is  a  nervous  energy  of  nature, 
it  is  in  May  in  Alpine  regions  ;  and  it  behoves 
us  to  be  equally  quick  and  timely.  For  instance, 
this  year  (1910)  1  was  struck  by  the  fact  that,  two 
weeks  after  the  last  vestige  of  an  avalanche  had 
cleared  from  off  a  steep  slope  at  the  foot  of  the 
Breyaz,  three  or  four  cows  belonging  to  the  hotels 
were  grazing  contentedly  on  rich  green  grass,  and 
the  Crocus  and  Soldanella  had  already  bloomed  and 
disappeared. 

When  we  quit  the  plains  their  face  is  well  set 
towards  June.  Spring's  early  timidity  and  delicacy 
are  past ;  the  Primrose,  Scilla,  Hepatica,  Violet, 
and  Wood-Anemone  have  retired  into  a  diligent 
obscurity  and  the  fields  are  already  gay  with  the 
Orchids  and  the  Globe-Flower.  But  up  here  at 
Champex  we  find  ourselves  back  with  the  Crocus, 
springing  fresh  and  glistening  from  the  brown, 
snow-soaked  sward,  and  with  the  as  yet  scarcely 
awakened  Cowslip.  As  we  climb  up  from  Martigny 
the  slopes  grow  more  and  more  wintry-looking, 
and  we  may  perhaps  begin  to  regret  leaving  the 
wealth  of  blushing  apple-blossom  which  dominates 


24     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

the  azure-blue  fields  of  Myosotis  below  the  Gorges 
du  Durnand.  And  this  regret  will  probably  be- 
come more  keen  when  we  plunge  into  the  forests 
just  below  Champex  and  find  them  still  choked 
with  snow  and  ice.  But  we  are  soon  and  amply 
repaid  for  what  at  first  seems  a  mad  ostracism 
on  our  part.  One  or  two  brief  days,  full  of  intense 
interest  in  watching  Alpine  nature's  unfolding,  and 
all  regrets  have  vanished,  and  we  have  quite  decided 
that  these  INI  ay  fields  are  a  Paradise  wherein,  in 
Meredith's  words,  "  of  all  the  world  you  might 
imagine  gods  to  sit." 

The  Crocus  is  not  for  long  alone  in  making 
effective  display.  The  Soldanella  soon  joins  it 
after  a  few  hours  of  warm  sunshine  ;  in  fact,  in 
many  favoured  corners  it  is  already  out  when  we 
arrive.  And  Geum  montanum  is  no  laggard ; 
neither  are  the  two  Gentians,  x^erna  and  ejccisa,  nor 
the  yellow-and-white  Box-leav  ed  Polygala.  By  the 
time  the  20th  of  the  month  has  come  the  pastures 
are  thickly  sown  with  pristine  loveliness,  and  by 
the  25th  this  is  at  the  height  of  perfection — a 
height  to  which  nothing  in  paint  or  in  ink  can 
attain.  Flora  has  touched  the  fields  with  her 
fairy  wand  and  they  have  responded  with  amazing 
alacrity.     Turn  which  way  we  will,  the  landscape 


jiisi  p€x  ami 


ANEMONE       SULPHUREA       and       VIOLA 
CALCARATA    in    the    Val    d'Arpette    in 
efii         June. 

af'tt- 


m  paini 

aUaih.       Fioia    has    touched    t 

i...,  v(     ,M.l    oi,.^     iVwA      h■,^r-^     i^..; 


t 


/ 


114 


t 


THE   MAY   FIELDS  25 

is  suffused  with  the  freshest  of  yellow,  rose,  and 
blue  ;  and  broad,  surprising  acres  of  these  bewitch- 
ing hues  lie  at  our  very  door,  coming,  as  it  were, 

"  In  our  winter'fs  heart  to  build  a  tower  of  song." 

Our  "  laundered  bosoms "  swell  with  hymns  of 
praise ;  the  plains  have  receded  into  Memory's 
darker  recesses,  and  we  vote  these  Alpine  meadows 
to  a  permanent  and  foremost  place  in  our  affections 
— so  much  so,  indeed,  that,  with  Theophile  Gautier, 
we  unhesitatingly  declare  (though  not,  be  it  said, 
with  quite  all  the  musical  exaggeration  of  his  poet 
spirit)  : 

"Mais,  moi,  je  les  prefere  aux  champs  gras  et  fertiles 
Qui  sont  si  loin  du  del  qu'on  n'y  voit  jaraais  Dieu." 

We  know,  of  course.  Divinity  is  not  absent  on 
the  plains.  AVhen  the  poet  says  otherwise  it  is 
a  tuneful  licence  with  which  we  are  merely  tolerant. 
We  quite  understand  that  there  is  a  more  moderate 
meaning  behind  his  extravagance.  We  know,  and 
everybody  acquainted  with  Alpine  'circumstance 
knows,  that  in  the  Alps  there  is  a  very  strong 
and  striking  sense  of  the  nearer  presence  of  the 
Divine  in  nature.  There  is  a  superior  and  in- 
describable purity,  together  with  a  refinement  and 


O.  H.  HILL  LIBRARY 

North  Carolina  State  College 


26     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

restraint  which  defies  what  is  the  utmost  prodigahty 
of  colour ;  and,  much  as  we  love  the  divinity  of 
things  in  the  plains,  the  divinity  of  those  of  high 
altitudes  must  take  a  foremost  position  in  our 
esteem  and  joy. 

Mr.  A.  F.  Mummery  has  a  fine  passage  touching 
this  subject — a  passage  that  may  well  be  quoted 
here,  for  it  sums  up  in  admirable  fashion  all  that 
we  ourselves  are  feeling.  "  Every  step,"  he  says, 
"  is  health,  fun,  and  frolic.  The  troubles  and  cares 
of  life,  together  with  the  essential  vulgarity  of  a 
plutocratic  society,  are  left  far  below — foul  mias- 
mas that  cling  to  the  lowest  bottoms  of  reeking 
valleys.  Above,  in  the  clear  air  and  searching 
sunlight,  we  are  afoot  with  the  quiet  gods,  and 
men  can  know  each  other  and  themselves  for 
what  they  are."  "  The  quiet  gods  " — yes,  indeed  ! 
Here,  if  anywhere,  in  May  and  June,  is  quietness  ; 
here  at  this  season  these  hosts  of  lovely  flowers 
are  indeed  "  born  to  blush  unseen  "  and,  in  Man's 
arrogant  phrase,  to  "  waste  their  sweetness  on 
the  desert  air." 

But  what  nonsense  it  is,  this  assumption  that 
the  flowers  are  wasted  if  not  seen  by  us !  It  is 
not  for  that  reason  we  should  be  here:  it  is  not 
because    the   flowers   would    benefit   one   iota   by 


THE   MAY   FIELDS  27 

our  presence.  What  is  it  to  them  whether  they 
have,  or  have  not  been  seen  by  Man  ?  "  We 
are  what  suns  and  winds  and  waters  make  us," 
they  say ;  and,  in  saying  thus,  they  speak  but 
the  substantial  truth.  Their  history  is  one  of 
strenuous  self-endeavour  ;  their  unique  and  dazzling 
loveliness  they  have  attained  "  alone,"  oblivious  of 
Man's  presence  in  the  world.  After  age-long 
effort,  from  which  their  remarkable  happiness  and 
beauty  are  the  primest  distillations,  Man  stumbles 
upon  them  in  their  radiance,  declares  they  are 
languishing  for  want  of  his  admiration,  and  at  once 
commiserates  with  them  upon  their  lone  and 
wasted  lot.  What  fond  presumption !  How 
typically  human  ! 

Is  there  not  proof  abundant  of  Nature's  "  profuse 
indifference  to  mankind  ?  "  Why,  then,  should 
Man  assume  that  all  things  are  made  for  him  ? 
why,  in  his  small,  lordly  way,  should  he  say — as  he 
is  for  ever  saying — "  The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars, 
have  their  raison  d'etre  in  Me  ? "  In  a  sense  he  is 
right,  but  not  in  the  arrogant  sense  he  so  much 
presumes.  All  things  help  to  make  him.  The  sun, 
moon,  and  stars  are  for  him,  inasmuch  as  he  would 
not  be  what  he  is — he  would  not,  probably,  be 
Man — did    they    not    exist.       But   neither,   then, 


28     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

would   the    black-beetle  be  as  it  is.     Do  not  let 
him  forget  the  high  claims  of  the  black-beetle. 

"  Man  stands  so  large  before  the  eyes  of  man 
He  cannot  think  of  Earth  but  as  his  own  ; 
All  his  philosophies  can  guess  no  plan 
That  leaves  him  not  on  his  imagined  throne.'" 

Let  us  be  humble:  let  us  merge  ourselves 
modestly  in  the  scheme  of  things.  It  is  not  to 
cheer  up  the  flowers  in  their  "  loneliness  "  that  we 
ought  to  be  with  them  here  in  the  spring.  We 
ought  to  be  here  because  of  all  that  the  flowers 
and  their  loveliness  can  do  for  us,  in  lifting  us 
above  "  the  essential  vulgarity  of  a  plutocratic 
society,"  and  in  revealing  us  to  ourselves  and  to 
each  other  as  rarely  we  are  revealed  elsewhere. 
Here  with  these  pastures  are  health  and  vigour — 
vigour  that  is  quiet  and  restful ;  here  is  unpre- 
tentiousness  more  radiant,  more  glorious,  than  the 
most  dazzling  of  pretensions.  Here,  if  we  will,  we 
can  come  and  be  natural — here,  where  Man,  that 
"  feverish,  selfish  little  clod  of  ailments  and 
grievances,"  as  Mr.  Bernard  Shaw  calls  him,  can 
be  in  the  fullest  sense  a  man,  and  be  in  no  wise 
ashamed  of  it.  For  here,  in  a  word,  is  Nature — 
unaffected,  unconventional,  unconscious  of  herself, 
yet  in  the  highest  degree  efficient.     The  purity  of 


THE   MAY   FIELDS  29 

it  all  is  wonderful.  And  it  is  this,  with  its 
beneficent  power,  that  tvc  waste. 

If  spring  is  reckoned  pure  below,  among  "  the 
foul  miasmas  that  cling  to  the  lowest  bottoms  of 
reeking  valleys,"  how  much  purer  must  it  not  be 
reckoned  under  Alpine  skies  !  The  amelioration 
is  already  marked  after  we  have  risen  a  few 
hundred  feet  from  the  plains.  Our  minds  climb 
with  our  bodies,  both  attuning  themselves  to  the 
increasing  purity  of  our  surroundings,  until  at  some 
5,000  feet  we  feel,  to  use  a  homely  expres- 
sion, as  different  as  chalk  from  cheese.  And 
nothing  aids  more  potently  in  this  attunement 
than  do  the  fields  of  springtime  blossoms. 

"  Why  bloom 'st  thou  so  ? "  asks  the  poet  of  these 
flowers — 

"  Why  bloonrst  thou  so 
In  solitary  loveliness,  more  fair 
In  this  thy  artless  beauty,  than  the  rare 
And  costliest  garden-plant  ?*" 

The  question  has  been  answered,  or,  at  any  rate, 
answered  in  important  part,  and  far  more  truth- 
fully than  by  any  blind,  patronising  remark  about 
"  wasted  beauty."  Wasted  I  It  is  an  accusation 
which  the  flowers  should  hurl  at  us !  Wasted  ? 
Yes ;   wasted,  in   so   far   as  we  do   not  yet   take 


30    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

advantage  of  the  Alpine  spring ;  wasted,  in  so 
far  as  we  arrive  only  in  late  July  or  early 
August ! 

Nor  should  our  praise  be  counted  amongst 
surprises.  Champex's  fields  bear  witness  to  it 
being  no  mere  idle  adulation.  On  the  flat  damp 
grass-land,  intersected  by  sparkling  glacier  streams, 
which  stretches  away  to  the  north  of  the  lake, 
great  and  brilliant  groups  of  Caltha  palustris  (only 
the  common  Marsh -Marigold,  it  is  true,  but  of 
how  much  more  luscious,  brilhant  hue  than  down 
upon  some  lowland  marsh)  lie  upon  a  vast  rosy 
carpet  of  Primula  far inosa,  effectively  broken  here 
and  there  by  the  rich  purple  tints  of  Bart  mi  alpina 
and  the  ruddier  hues  of  Pedicularis.  And  this 
wondrous  wealth  of  yellow  and  rose  is  found  again 
on  the  extensive  sunny  slopes  to  the  south  of  the 
lake ;  but  here  Gentiana  verna  asserts  its  bright 
blue  presence  amongst  the  Primula,  and  the  effect 
is  even  more  astonishingly  gay  than  it  is  to  the 
north.  Like  Count  Smorltork's  "  poltics,"  it 
"  surprises  by  himself." 

On  these  southern  slopes,  too,  are  quantities  of 
Micheli's  Daisy,  enlivening  still  more  with  their 
glistening  whiteness  the  beautiful  colour-scheme. 
There  are  also  colonies   of  the   two   Pmguiculas, 


THE   MAY   FIELDS  31 

mauve  and  creamy- white ;  also  of  the  quaint 
Alpine  Crowfoot  and  of  the  yet  more  quaint, 
aesthetically  tinted  AJuga  pyramidaUs — the  most 
arresting  of  the  Bugles — and  of  the  demure  little 
Alpine  Polygala,  varying  from  blue  (the  type) 
through  mauve  to  reddish-pink,  even  to  white. 
Here,  also,  is  the  Sulphur  Anemone  just  unfolding 
the  earliest  of  its  clear  citron-coloured  blossoms. 
But  to  see  this  Anemone  to  fullest  advantage  we 
must  turn  to  the  drier  pastures  to  the  east  and 
north  of  the  lake,  where  it  is  scattered  in  endless 
thousands  amongst  sheets  of  Gentiana  verna  and 
excisa  and  a  profusion  of  the  yellow  Pedicularis 
(tuberosa),  the  white  Potentilla  {rupestris),  the 
golden  Geum  {montanum),  the  purple  Calamintha 
{alphia),  the  canary-yellow  Biscutella  {Icevigata), 
the  rosy-red  Saponaria  {ocymoides),  and  many 
another  of  the  earlier  pasture-Howers.  And  by 
the  side  of  all  this  ravishing  young  life  and  colour 
are  the  still  remaining  avalanches  of  piled-up 
frozen  snow — grim  reminders  of  what  wild  riot 
winter  makes  upon  these  pastures  whilst  the 
flowers  are  sleeping. 

Surely,  then  our  praise  is  not  surprising  ?  Surely, 
nowhere  in  the  Alps  in  May  shall  we  find  any  thing- 
more  admirable  or  more  amazingly  colour-full  than 


Sti    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

are  these  pasture-slopes  and  meadows  of  Lac 
Champex  ?  In  some  one  or  other  respect  their 
equal  may  be  found  in  many  favoured  places ; 
in  many  spots  we  shall  find  most  astonishing 
displays  of  other  kinds  of  plants  than  we  have 
here — of,  for  instance,  the  white  Anemone  alpina 
and  the  purple  Viola  calcarata,  as  on  the  slopes  of 
the  Chamossaire  above  Villars-sur-Ollon  (though 
the  Viola  is  in  quantity  near  Champex,  in  the 
Val  d'Arpette,  in  June),  or  of  the  Pheasant-eye 
Narcissus,  as  at  Les  Avants  and  Chateau  d'Oex, 
and  the  Daffodil,  as  at  Champery  and  Saas ;  but, 
taking  Champex's  floral  wealth  as  a  whole,  it 
can  have  few,  if  any  superiors  in  point  of 
abundance  and  colour  at  this  early  season. 
Mindful  of  what  Mr.  Reginald  Farrer  has  said 
of  Mont  Cenis  towards  the  end  of  June,  we  may 
safely  declare  that  the  Viola  and  Gentian  clothed 
slopes  of  that  district  are  not  the  only  slopes  in 
the  Alps  which  might  be  "  visible  for  miles  away." 
Perhaps  some  more  substantial  idea  of  these 
fields  at  this  season  may  be  gathered  from  the 
pictures  facing  pages  iii  and  3 ;  but  these  tran- 
scriptions, though  to  the  uninitiated  they  may 
appear  reckless  with  regard  to  truth,  are  really 
far  from  adequate.     Seeing  the  thing  itself  must, 


fonnd    in    nmn\ 
;iall  iinu 


—  EARLY   JUNE    FIELDS  beyond   Praz  de  Fort 
takin  in  the  Val    Ferret,  backed  by  the  Groupe 

du    Grand     Saint- Bernard    et    du    Grand 

GoUiaz. 


;es  iii   and  . 
mis,    thuugii    to   the   unij 

— »-^--:s   with   r- -'    ' 

.die.     S< 


m  P 

if  ■■  ^^"'i 
p. 

Ms-  \ 

vV 

>  '^p\',. 

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\    ^^ 

^'    " 

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"^h. 


THE  MAY  FIELDS  83 

in  this  case,  alone  bring  entire  belief  and  under- 
standing. "  Colour,  the  soul's  bridegroom,"  is  so 
abounding,  so  fresh,  light,  joyful,  and  ensla\'ing, 
that,  after  all  has  been  said  and  done  to  picture 
it,  one  sits  listless,  dejected  and  despairing 
over  one's  tame  and  lifeless  efforts ;  one  feels 
that  it  must  be  left  to  speak  for  itself  in  its  own 
frank,  dreamland  language — language  at  once 
both  elusive  and  comprehensible.  The  soul  of 
things  is  possessed  of  an  eloquent  and  secret  code 
which  is  every  whit  its  own ;  and  the  soul  of 
these  fields  is  no  exception.  In  spite  of  Words- 
worth, there  is,  and  there  must  be,  '*  need  of  a 
remoter  charm " ;  there  is,  and  there  must  be, 
an  "  interest  unborrowed  from  the  eye  " ;  and  it 
is  just  this  vague,  appealing  "  something " — this 
"something"  so  real  as  to  transcend  what  is 
known  as  reality — which  speaks  to  us  and  invades 
us  in  the  bright  and  intimate  presence  of  these 
hosts  of  Alpine  flowers. 

In  rural  parts  of  England  spring  is  said  to 
have  come  when  a  maiden's  foot  can  cover  seven 
daisies  at  once  on  the  village  green.  Why,  when 
spring  had  come  here,  on  these  Alpine  meadows, 
I  was  putting  my  foot  (albeit  of  goodlier  pro- 
portions  than   a  maiden's)   upon  at  least  a  score 


34    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

of  Gentians !  Whilst  painting  the  study  of 
Sulphur  Anemones  (facing  page  96)  about 
May  20,  my  feet,  camp-stool,  and  easel  were 
perforce  crushing  dozens  of  lovely  flowers — 
flowers  which  in  England  would  have  been  fenced 
about  with  every  sort  of  reverence.  But  sacrifice 
is  the  7not  d'ordre  of  a  live  and  useful  world ; 
worship  at  any  shrine  is  accompanied  by  some 
"  hard  dealing " ;  and,  sadly  as  it  went  against 
the  grain,  there  was  no  gentler  way  in  which  I 
could  effect  my  purpose. 

Looking  at  the  close-set  masses  of  blossom,  it 
is  difficult  to  realise  into  what  these  slopes  and 
fields  will  develop  later  on.  There  seems  no  room 
for  a  crop  of  hayfield  grass.  Amid  this  neat  and 
packed  abundance  there  seems  no  possible  footing 
for  a  wealth  of  greater  luxuriance.  And  yet,  in  a 
few  weeks'  time,  these  fields  will  have  so  changed 
as  to  be  scarcely  recognisable.  What  we  see 
at  present,  despite  its  ubiquity,  is  but  a  moiety 
of  all  they  can  produce.  June  and  July  will 
border  upon  a  plethora  of  wonders,  though  they 
will  not  perhaps  be  rivals  to  the  exquisite  charm 
of  May. 


CHAPTER   IV 


THE    VERNAL    GENTIAN 


"Divin  etre  d'azur  au  coeur  pur  qui  scintille. 
Vis  tranquille  et  joyeux  sur  le  riant  coteau, 
Car  partout,  fleur  du  ciel,  ou  ta  couronne  brille 
EUe  enfante  la  joie  et  luit  comme  un  flambeau." 

Henry  Corrkvon. 

Do  you  ask  what  the  Alps  would  be  without  the 
Edelweiss  ?  Ask,  rather,  what  they  would  be 
without  the  little  Vernal  Gentian !  Ask  what 
would  be  the  slopes  and  fields  of  Alpine  Switzer- 
land without  this  flower  of  heaven-reflected  blue, 
rather  than  what  the  rocks  and  screes  and  un- 
couth places  would  be  without  Leontopodium 
alpinuvi  of  bloated  and  untruthful  reputation. 
Ask  what  Alpland's  springtide  welcome  and 
autumnal  salutation  would  be  if  shorn  of  this 
little  plant's  bright  azure  spontaneity  ;  ask  where 
would  be  spring's  eager  joyfulness,  and  where  the 
ready  hopefulness  of  autumn.     Ask  yourself  this, 

35 


36    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

and  then  the  Edelweiss  at  once  falls  back  into 
a  more  becoming  perspective  with  the  landscape, 
into  a  less  faulty  pose  among  the  other  mountain 
flowers. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  very  venturesome  to  think 
that  if  the  Edelweiss  had  become  extinct,  and 
were  now  to  be  found  only  amid  the  fastnesses 
of  legend,  it  would  live  quite  as  securely  in  the 
hearts  of  men  as  it  does  at  present ;  for  its  repute 
rests  mostly  upon  the  fabulous.  But  how  different 
is  the  case  of  the  earliest  of  the  Gentians !  Here 
is  a  plant  which,  despite  the  romance-breeding 
nature  of  its  habit,  form,  and  colour,  draws  little 
or  nothing  from  legendary  sources.  Fable  has 
small  command  where  merit  is  so  marked ;  imagi- 
nation is  outstripped  by  reality,  and  there  is  scarcely 
room  for  invention  where  truth  is  so  arresting,  so 
pronounced. 

Gentiana  verna  flies  no  false  colours.  Its 
flower  is  a  flower,  and  not  for  the  greater  part 
an  assemblage  of  hoary-haired  leaves.  It  inspires 
in  men  no  performance  of  mad  gymnastics  on  the 
precipice's  brink  and  brow ;  it  wears,  therefore, 
no  halo  of  unnecessary  human  sacrifice.  It  is  not 
a  tender  token  of  attachment  among  lovers.  It 
does  not   live   in   myth,  nor   has  it  an   important 


THE   VERNAL  GENTIAN  37 

place  in  folk-lore.  In  short,  it  is  just  its  own 
bright,  fascinating  self ;  there  is  nothing  of  blatant 
notoriety  about  its  renown,  no  suspicion  of  a 
succes  de  scandale  such  as  the  Edelweiss  can  so 
justly  claim. 

We  may  laud  the  Edelweiss  as  a  symbol  of 
advanced  endeavour,  but  the  Gentian  is  more 
useful,  if  not,  indeed,  worthier,  in  this  respect ;  for 
it  marks  no  great  extreme  and  therefore  its  condi- 
tion is  symbolic  of  less  that  is  incompatible  with 
consistent  human  effort.  Ruskin  has  somewhere 
said  that  the  most  glorious  repose  is  that  of  the 
chamois  panting  on  its  bed  of  granite,  rather 
than  that  of  the  ox  chewing  the  cud  in  its  stall ; 
but,  however  transcendentally  true  this  may  be, 
the  actually  glorious  position  lies  midway  betwixt 
the  two — the  position  of  the  Gentian  in  relation 
with,  for  instance,  the  positions  of  the  Edelweiss 
and  the  Primrose.  We  are  likely  to  derive  in- 
spiration of  more  abundant  practical  value  from 
the  Gentian  than  from  the  Edelweiss,  because 
there  is  comparatively  little  about  it  that  is 
extreme.  Though  advanced  in  circumstance  it  is 
reasonably  situated  ;  it  leads,  therefore,  to  no  such 
flagrant  inconsistency  with  facts,  no  such  beating 
of  the  drum   of  romance  as,  apparently,  w^e  find 


38    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

so  necessary  in  the  case  of  Leontopodium.  The 
Edelweiss  is  not  all  it  seems ;  the  Gentian  is. 
*'//  ne  suffit  pas  d'etre,  il  faut  paraitre  "  ;  and  this, 
certainly,  the  little  Vernal  Gentian  does.  In  not 
one  single  trait  does  it  belie  the  high  colour  of 
its  blossom. 

With  what  curiously  different  craft  do  each  of 
these  flowers  play  upon  the  emotions  !  With  what 
contrary  art  does  each  make  its  appeal  to  our 
regard  and  adulation  I  To  each  we  may  address 
Swinburne's  stately  lines :  to  each  we  may,  and 
do  exclaim : 

"...  with  my  lips  I  kneel,  and  with  my  heart 
I  fall  about  thy  feet  and  worship  thee  .  .  ."" 

Yet  this  act  of  adoration,  when  it  affects  the 
Edelweiss,  seems  far  more  an  act  of  idolatry 
than  it  does  when  it  affects  the  Gentian.  For  on 
the  one  hand  we  have  the  Edelweiss  stirring  the 
imagination  to  wild,  foolhardy  flights  amid  the  awe- 
some summer  haunts  of  the  eagle  and  the  chamois, 
when,  in  simple  reality,  we  could  if  we  would  be 
reposing  amongst  hundreds  of  its  woolly  stars  upon 
some  gentle  pasture-slope  away  from  the  least 
hint  of  danger  and  of  scandale ;  while  on  the 
other  hand  we  have  the  Vernal  Gentian  calling  us 


THE   VERNAL  GENTIAN  39 

at  once  in  all  frankness  to  accept  it  as  it  is — one 
of  the  truest  and  loveliest  marvels  of  the  Alps, 

"...  the  fair  earth's  fond  expression 
Of  tenderness  for  heaven  above  .  .  . "" ! 

To  each  do  we  accord,  as  INlr.  Augustine  Birrell 
would  say,  "  a  mass  of  greedy  utterances  "  ;  to  each 
do  we  lose  our  hearts ;  but  only  to  one  do  we  lose 
our  heads.  And  that  one  is  the  Edelweiss:  the 
plant  of  leaves  which  ape  a  flower  ;  the  plant  whose 
flower  is  as  inconspicuous  as  that  of  our  common 
Sun  Spurge  ;  the  plant  that  would  have  us  forget 
its  abundance  on  many  a  pasture,  and  think  of 
it  only  as  clinging  perilously  to  high-flung  cliffs 
where  browse  the  chamois  and  where  nest  the 
choughs. 

The  Gentian  Family  as  a  whole  is  possessed  of 
very  striking  individuahty,  and  for  the  most  part 
its  members  arrest  more  than  usual  attention.  Its 
name  is  said  to  be  derived  from  Gentius,  King  of 
Illyria,  who  is  reputed  to  have  first  made  known 
its  medicinial  properties — tonic,  emetic,  and  nar- 
cotic. Although  it  ranges  from  Behring's  Straits 
to  the  Equator  and  on  to  the  Antipodes,  its  resi- 
dence is  mainly  northern.  In  New  Zealand  its 
chief  colour   is  red ;   in    Europe  blue ;   and  of  all 


40     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

its  blue  European  representatives  none  can  eclipse 
perennial  vernas  radiant  star. 

The  Vernal  Gentian  is  no  stranger  to  England, 
though,  as  an  indigenous  plant,  it  is  a  stranger  to 
most  Englishmen.  It  is  still  to  be  found  on  wet 
limestone  rocks  in  Northern  England  (Teesdale) 
and  also  in  the  north-west  of  Ireland.  Like 
Gentiana  nivalis  of  the  small  band  of  Alpine 
annuals  and  tiniest  of  the  blue-starred  Gentians, 
it  lingers  in  the  British  Isles,  a  rare,  pathetic 
remnant  of  past  salubrity  of  climate  and  condi- 
tion ;  and  to  its  homes  in  England  and  Ireland, 
rather  than  in  Switzerland,  we  should  perhaps  go 
to  study  how  to  grow  it  in  our  gardens  more 
successfully  than  we  do  at  present.  But  it  is  to 
the  Alps  that  we  must  turn  to  find  it  revelling 
wealthily  in  a  setting  for  which  it  is  pre-eminently 
suited  ;  it  is  there  that  its 
"...  living  flowers 
Of  loveliest  blue,  spread  garlands  at  your  feet." 

For,  in  the  Alps,  it  is  an  abundant  denizen  of  the 
pastures  in  general :  both  the  grazing  pastures  or 
"  Alps,"  and  "  the  artificial  modifications  of  the 
pastures,"  as  Mr.  Newell  Arber  calls  the  meadows. 
If  we  wanted  to  give  this  Gentian  an  English 
name  (and  far  be  it  from  me  to  suggest  that  we 


Its  biue  Kuropean 
perennial  vernas  rauiam  siuj. 

The  \^ernn]  Gentian  is  no  stranorer  to  England, 
Uiou;  enous  plant,  ranger  to 


it    lingers   in    the    British  Isles 

remnant  of  past  salubrity  of   eliuiatc   and  c 

tion  ;       and       ^'^     '^^     iTi-.m/^c      in     "T'.n.rl'.  n,^1       irwl      Tr 

^^*^'¥he^^&ARADISE    LILY   (Panidisia   UUastruw) 
to     study  rlear    the     Glacier    de    Trient    about    the 

successfuliy441n:Pf  '^^'"*-'- 
the  Alps  that   we 
wealthily  in  a  ^ 


I  t)r,  m  liie  ^VJpt,,  it  is  ixn  abundant  denizen  of  tlic 
pastures  in  general:  both  the  grazing  pM^t^iin^ 
"Alps,"   and   "the  artificial   modificati' 
pastures,"  as  Mr.  Newell  Arber 
If  we  wanted  to  give  this  Ch 
iuime  (and  far  be  it  from  me  t 


-*: 


%:^ 


X'^<j; 


X  '^ 


^ 


^*MS, 


THE   VERNAL   GENTIAN  41 

should  do  any  such  thing)  we  should  probably 
have  to  call  it  Spring-Felwort ;  Felwort  being  an 
old-time  title  for  Gcntiana  amarclla,  an  annual 
herb  common  to  dry  pastures  and  chalk  downs  in 
England,  and  possibly  at  one  time  employed  by 
tanners.  In  the  Jura  Mountains  verna  goes  by 
the  name  of  G^il-dc-chat,  and  among  the  peasants 
inhabiting  the  northern  side  of  the  Dent  du  Midi, 
in  the  Canton  de  Valais,  I  have  heard  it  referred 
to  as  Le  Ba.s  du  Bon  Dicu  ;  but,  considering  the 
remarkably  suggestive  character  of  the  plant,  the 
domain  of  folk-lore  seems  curiously  empty  of  its 
presence.  This,  possibly,  is  in  part  due  to  its 
amazing  abundance,  and  to  the  fact  that  it  is  to 
be  found  from  about  1,200  feet  to  about  10,000 
feet,  thus  causing  it  to  meet  with  the  proverbial 
fate  of  things  familiar.  But,  at  any  rate,  its  dried 
flowers,  mixed  with  those  of  the  Rhododendron 
and  the  purple  Viola,  are  used  in  the  form  of 
"  tea  "  by  the  montagnards  as  an  antidote  for  chills 
and  rheumatism. 

The  appearance  of  veriia  upon  the  pastures  is 
not  confined  solely  to  the  early  springtime ;  though 
this  is  the  season  of  its  greatest  wealth,  it  may  be 
met  with  quite  commonly  in  the  late  autumn. 
Indeed  it  affects  the  days  which  circle  round  the 


42    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

whole  of  winter  ;  and  I  have  found  it  several  times 
even  at  Christmas  near  Arveyes,  above  Gryon 
(Vaud),  upon  steep  southward-facing  banks  where 
sun  and  wind  combined  to  chase  away  the  snow. 
If,  then,  for  no  other  reason  than  this,  it  seems 
curious  that  romance  has  not  gathered  this  Gentian 
under  its  wing  as  it  has  the  Edelweiss. 

As  for  the  radiant  purity  of  its  five-pointed 
azure  stars,  it  is  perhaps  only  outshone  by  that  of 
the  Myosotis-like  flowers  of  JEritrichium  nanum. 
King  of  the  Alps  ;  but  even  this  rivalry  is  doubt- 
ful when  verna  is  growing  upon  a  limestone  soil, 
where  its  blossoms  are  more  brilliant  than  those 
produced  upon  granitic  ground. 

Blue,  however,  although  it  is  the  superabundant 
type-colour,  is  not  the  invariable  hue  of  its  blos- 
soms ;  indeed,  it  shows  more  variety  than  even 
many  a  botanist  suspects,  and  I  have  found  it  in 
all  tints  from  deep  French  to  pale  Cambridge  blue, 
from  rich  red-purple  to  the  palest  lilac,  and  from 
the  faintest  yellow-white,  through  blush-white,  to 
the  purest  blue-white.  I  have,  too,  found  it  party- 
coloured,  blue-and-white. 

These  many  variations  from  the  type  give 
occasion  for  suggestive  questions  that  I  fain  would 
indicate,  because   I  believe  with  Mr.  Arber  that 


THE   VERNAL   GENTIAN  43 

such  variations  can  only  "  arise  from  deep-seated 
tendencies,  which  find  their  expression  in  the 
existence  of  the  individual,  and  the  evolution  of 
the  race."  For  instance,  are  the  mauve  and  plum- 
coloured  flowers  a  break-back  to  the  ancestral 
type ;  that  is  to  say,  was  the  more  primitive  vermi 
red  ?  Blue  flowers  are  more  highly  organised  than 
those  of  other  colours  ;  are,  then,  all  flowers  striv- 
ing to  be  blue — like  Emerson's  grass,  "  striving  to 
be  man  ? "  The  French-blue  Gentians  are  of 
warmer  tint  than  those  of  Cambridge  hue  ;  are 
they,  therefore,  the  first  decided  step  into  this 
highest  of  the  primary  colours :  are  they  the  first 
strikingly  victorious  effort  of  the  plant  to  shake  off" 
all  trammel  of  red  ?  And  white  ;  what  of  white  ? 
I  have  seen  white  vcrna  tinged  with  rose,  and 
white  vcrna  of  a  white  altogether  free  from  any 
tint  of  grossness — a  white  so  positive  as  to  suggest 
the  utmost  frailty  arising  from  degeneracy,  if  it 
were  not  known  to  be  the  natural  consequence  of 
presistent  advance  through  blue.  These  are  nice 
points  for  speculation. 

But  "  let  us  not  rove  ;  let  us  sit  at  home  with 
the  cause  "  !  Blue  for  us  is  the  essential  colour  for 
this  Gentian :  we  can  dispense  with  all  its  efforts  to 
be  white.     Blue,  not  white,  is  the  hue  of  promise. 


44    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

And  it  is  promise  we  look  for  at  the  turn  of  the 
year  ;  it  is  promise  we  must  have  after  long  months 
of  snow.  When  youthful  "  chevalier  Printemps  " 
hymns  us  his  ancient  message;  when  in  penetrating 
accents  of  triumph  he  tells  us : 

"  Cest  moi  que  Dieu  sur  terre  envoie 
Dans  un  rayon  de  son  soleil 
Pour  mettre  la  terre  en  joie, 
Pour  faire  un  monde  tout  vermeil. 
Quand  Thiver  m'a  crie  '  qui  vive  !  ^ 
J''ai  dit :  '  Fais-moi  place,  il  est  temps  ! 
Du  Paradis  tout  droit  j 'arrive  : 
Je  suis  le  chevalier  Printemps ! "" " 

— when,  I  say,  spring  thus  speaks  to  us  of  the  rout 
of  winter  and  the  dawn  of  a  wealthier  life,  it  is 
blue  that  we  look  for  most  upon  the  frost-stained 
fields  ;  blue  not  white — the  blue  of  the  type- 
flowered  Gentian,  not  the  white  of  the  Alpine 
Crowfoot  and  Crocus. 

Whilst  writing  these  lines  on  the  most  fascinating 
spring  flower  of  the  Alps,  there  comes  before  my 
mind  one  spot  in  particular  where  it  abounds  in 
May — a  certain  long  and  rapid  grassy  slope  at 
Le  Planet,  above  Argenti^re  (Haute-Savoie). 
Albeit  not  in  Switzerland,  Le  Planet  is  only  just 
across  the  frontier ;  and,  as  every  one  who  knows 


THE   VERNAL  GENTIAN  45 

the  district  will  attest,  it  is  difficult  to  draw  a  rigid, 
formal  line  where  flowers  and  mountains  are  so 
knit  in  common  semblance.  Other  rich  scenes  of 
azure  I  can  recall — as  on  the  swelling  slopes  of  the 
Jura  around  the  Suchet,  or  on  the  fields  which 
mount  from  Naters  towards  Bel- Alp  ;  but  none 
forces  itself  to  mind  with  such  persistence  as  does 
this  slope  at  Le  Planet.  And  it  is  because  the 
surrounding  circumstance  illustrates  so  well  all 
that  I  have  been  saying  about  this  Gentian's 
presence  in  the  spring. 

The  slope  in  question  is  not  five  minutes'  stroll 
from  the  hotel.  On  the  plateau  itself  ve7^na  is  all 
but  absent,  but  on  this  broad  and  steep  incline  it 
congregates  in  such  amazing  numbers  that,  as  I 
think  on  it,  I  am  sure  all  I  have  said  of  this 
witching  flower  is  poor  and  paltry.  After  all, 
verbal  magniloquence  is  perhaps  out  of  place,  and 
simplicity  is  the  best  translator  of  such  magnifi- 
cence. All  shades  of  brightest  blue  are  here 
presented  ;  for,  excepting  a  few  pale  plum-coloured 
clusters,  the  brilliant  type-flower  is  ubiquitous, 
blending  delightfully  with  the  little  yellow  Violet 
and  with  the  white,  fluffy  seedheads  of  the 
Coltsfoot. 

But  what,  perhaps,  makes  this  particular  slope 


46    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

so  appropriate  in  point  of  illustration  for  this 
chapter  is,  that  above  it  towers  the  mighty  Aiguille 
Verte,  decked  as  in  winter  with  its  snows  and  ice, 
and  in  the  foreground  lies  the  frozen  remains  of 
a  great  avalanche  strewn  with  fallen  rocks  and 
pierced  by  stricken  larch-trees. 

Yes  ;  from  the  lichen,  Umhilicaria  virginis,  the 
furthest  outpost  of  vegetable  life  as  it  clings  to  the 
Jungfrau's  awful  rocks  at  an  altitude  of  13,000 
feet,  to  the  yellow  Primrose  of  the  woods  and 
meadows  of  the  plains,  there  is  no  plant  of  Alp- 
land  that  is  so  precious,  so  rare  in  its  very  abund- 
ance as  Gentiana  veriia.  Nor  is  there  another 
Alpine  that  can  make  so  wide  and  so  certain  an 
appeal.  Spread  broadcast  and  alone  upon  the 
awakening  turf  of  mountain  slope  and  meadow,  it 
captivates  the  instant  attention  of  even  the  merest 
passer-by.  And  if  amongst  its  abounding  azure 
there  happens,  as  will  often  be  the  case,  a  vigorous 
admixture  of  healthy  rose  and  yellow — the  rose  of 
the  Mealy  or  Bird's-eye  Primula,  the  yellow  of  the 
Sulphur  Anemone  and  Marsh  Marigold — then  this 
were  a  scene  to  "make  the  pomp  of  emperors 
ridiculous  "  ;  a  scene  of  subtly  true  magnificence, 
of  perfectly  balanced  delight. 


THE   VERNAL  GENTIAN  47 

See  the  Vernal  Gentian  as  it  lies  thus  bountifully- 
set,  a  radiant  blue  carpet  of  heavenly  intensity, 
backed  majestically  by  winter's  receding  snows 
on  mighty  glacier  and  stupendous  peak  ;  note  its 
myriad  white-eyed,  ccerulean  blossoms  over  which 
hover  with  tireless  wing  its  faithful,  eager  friends, 
the  humming-bird  and  bee  hawk-moths — the  very 
picture  of  security  and  peace  amid  a  scene  of 
awful,  threatening  grandeur.  Listen — listen,  the 
while,  to  the  thunder  coming  from  "  the  vexed 
paths  of  the  avalanches  " ;  listen  to  the  sound  of 
falling  rock  and  pine,  and  mark  the  great  air-tossed 
cloud  of  powdered  snow  ;  listen  to  the  alarm-cry 
of  the  speckled  mountain-jay,  and  to  the  shriek- 
like warning  of  the  marmot ;  then  tell  me  if  there 
is  any  other  flower  that  could  so  well  play  the 
part  of  hope-inspiring  herald  to  a  world  as  harassed 
as  is  that  of  the  Alps  in  the  season  that  surrounds 
the  winter  ? 


CHAPTER  V 


IN    STORM   AND    SHINE 


"  Well  roars  the  storm  to  those  that  hear 
A  deeper  voice  across  the  storm." 

Tennyson. 

Although  Nature  is  moving  apace,  and  the  poet 
declares  he  has  even  "  heard  the  grasses  springing 
underneath  the  snow  "  ;  although  one  set  of  flowers 
is  surplanting  another  in  startlingly  swift  succes- 
sion, and  the  first-fruits  of  the  Alpine  year  are 
already  on  the  wane,  we  will  take  our  own  time 
and  study  this  progress  with  deliberate  care  and 
attention.  We  have  seen  May  smiling ;  we  ought 
— nay,  we  are  in  duty  bound — to  see  her  frowning. 
Like  the  recluse  of  Walden,  we  ought  each  of  us 
to  become  a  "self-appointed  inspector  of  snow- 
storms and  rainstorms." 

An  undoubtedly  noble  and  proper  philosophy 
assures  us  that  there  is  truth  and  beauty  in  no 
matter  what    condition,    and   that   they   who   see 


(Je(J,UNE    MEADOWS   of    Salvia,   Lychnis,  &c.,  in      .      .^  , 
the  Val   Ferret,  just  before  arriving  at  the       '"' 

underne  ^ili^^e  of  Praz  de  Fort.  flowers 

is  siirpl. 


>  wiling, 
light  each  of  n  ; 

;•)    i.'Cv'oitje    K    •" '  cu-a|;pojnLea    ifispectr.-       ''     - 
•torrus  and  rainstonns." 

adoubtedly  noble   and  p' 


-.:^ 


'':^'  * 


^ 


i^  '"^ 


-Tfii. 


^r. 


^ 


IN   STORM   AND  SHINE  49 

nothing  but  what  is  tiresome  or  hideous  in  certain 
estates,  draw  the  overphis  of  tiresomeness  and 
hideousness  from  their  own  selves.  "  Beauty  is 
truth,  and  truth  is  beauty,"  says  this  philosophy ; 
*'  how,  then,"  it  queries,  "  can  any  condition  be 
unbeautiful  ?  Is  it  not  yourselves  who  are  in  part 
lacking  in  a  sense  of  loveliness,  since  truth  can 
never  really  be  unbeautiful  ? " 

Now,  whatever  we  think  of  this  as  a  species  of 
sophistry,  it  behoves  us  to  look  into  it  with  quiet 
and  decent  care.  An  everyday  world,  deep  in  its 
old  conventions,  will  declare  that  it  is  certainly 
straining  a  point  to  try  thus  to  make  all  geese 
appear  as  swans.  With  the  exception  of  the  poet 
minded  to  verse  the  innate  grandeur  of  gloom,  the 
entire  sublimity  of  storm,  the  entrancing  mellow- 
ness of  fog  and  rain,  and  the  wild  joy  which  comes 
with  a  blizzard  ;  or  perhaps  of  the  painter  minded 
to  achieve  in  paint  what  the  poet  is  doing  in  ink 
(both  of  them,  most  probably,  contriving  their 
rhapsodies  within  the  snug  seclusion  of  their  rooms) 
— with  the  exception  of  these  two  privileged 
persons  comfortably  absorbed  in  justifying  a  bias, 
an  everyday  world,  voting  bad  weather  a  kill-joy 
and  mar-plot,  will  find  happiness  only  in  avoiding 
and  forgetting  it. 


50    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Be  that  as  it  may ;  be  fog,  wind,  and  cloud  and 
driving  rain  and  sleet  a  luxury  in  which  we  should 
revel — or  not;  of  all  places  in  the  world  in  bad 
weather,  the  Alps  at  springtide  and  at  the  altitude 
at  which  we  are  now  studying  them,  are  probably 
among  the  most  interesting  and  absorbing.  Let 
an  everyday  world,  or  as  much  of  it  as  can,  come 
and  judge  for  itself. 

If  in  our  composition  we  have  a  grain  of  love 
for  Nature  and  for  Nature-study,  there  is  a  fund 
of  opportunity  for  exercising  it  even  in  cloudland 
at  its  gloomiest ;  and  if,  as  in  the  present  case,  we 
are  bent  upon  studying  the  flowers  and  the  means 
for  their  more  adequate  reception  into  our  English 
homelands,  then  bad  weather  holds  for  us  an 
amount  of  experience  such  as  will  aid  us  materially 
in  our  object.  "  Inclemency  "  takes  so  large  a  share 
in  the  nurture  of  these  flowers.  By  company ing 
with  them  when  steeped  in  cloud  and  swept  by 
wind,  we  catch  an  important  glimpse  of  the  grim 
and  forceful  side  of  their  existence  which  is  a 
prime  cause  of  the  superlative  loveliness  that  so 
impresses  us  when  the  sun  does  shine  from  out  an 
immaculate  azure. 

Just  as  the  cheese-mite  is  a  product  of  the  cheese, 
and  has  attained  its  beauty  and  efficiency  because 


L\   STORM   AND   SHINE  51 

of  the  nature  of  cheese,  so  are  these  Alpines  the 
wonderful  things  they  are  because  of  the  nature 
of  the  conditions  with  which  they  have  to  contend 
and  upon  which  they  have  to  subsist.  It  is  all 
very  well  for  us  to  arrive  upon  the  scene  at  this 
late  moment  in  their  existence,  transplant  them  to 
our  gardens,  and  there  grow  them,  maybe,  with 
marked  success  ;  it  is  all  very  well  for  us  to  annex 
them  now  to  our  retinue  of  chattels,  lord  it  over 
them,  and  display  them  on  our  rockworks  as  if  it 
were  to  us  and  to  our  care  and  trouble  that  they 
owe  their  beauty  ;  but  these  plants  have  arrived  at 
what  they  are  without  us  and  our  attentions.  Our 
gardens  never  made  them  what  they  are,  or  gave 
them  one  particle  of  their  supreme  and  striking 
beauty.  Nor  are  our  gardens  likely  to  heighten 
that  beauty  in  any  real  way ;  much  more  likely 
is  it  that  we  shall  arrive  at  degrading  their  refine- 
ment by  bringing  it  down  from  the  severe  purity 
of  the  skies  to  the  grosser,  easier  circumstance  of 
our  sheltered  soil. 

Alpine  plants,  perhaps  because  of  the  extreme 
conditions  with  which  they  have  to  contend,  and 
therefore  because  of  the  extreme  measures  they 
have  to  take  in  order  to  defend  themselves,  seem 
to  be   possessed   of  an   efficiency  surpassing  that 


52    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

of  most  other  plants.  They  are  what  incessant 
warfare  has  made  of  them ;  they  dehght  in  it. 
Strenuous  children  of  strenuous  circumstance,  they 
are  self-reliant  to  a  degree,  and  hold  themselves 
with  a  winning  air  of  independence.  But  it  is 
independence  begot  of  strict  dependence ;  they 
admit  as  much  quite  frankly  and  sanely — an  ad- 
mittal  of  which  man  might  well  make  a  note  in 
red  ink.  Nature  all  over  the  world  is  saying,  not, 
"  I^et  me  help  you  to  be  independent,"  but,  "  You 
shall  and  must  depend  upon  me  for  your  inde- 
pendence." And  no  living  things  have  better 
understood  this  truth  than  have  the  Alpines ;  no 
living  things  have  acknowledged  and  mastered  this 
obligation  more  thoroughly  than  they.  Hence 
their  beauty ;  hence  their  serenity  and  *'  nerve "  ; 
hence  their  "blended  holiness  of  earth  and  sky." 
Mark  with  what  consummate  efficiencj^  these 
Alpine  field-flowers  cope  with  stern  inclemency. 
Tossed  and  torn  by  storms  for  which  the  Alps 
are  famous,  see  how  they  anchor  themselves  to 
Mother  Earth !  Washed  by  torrential  rains  upon 
the  rapid  slopes,  or  parched  by  the  most  personal 
of  suns,  small  wonder  that  their  roots,  in  many 
cases,  should  form  by  far  the  greater  part  of  their 
bulk  and  stature.     They  recall  to  mind  that  learned 


IN   STORM    AND   SHINE  53 

professor  who,  wishing  possibly  to  postulate  some- 
thing "new,"  declared  to  an  unconvinced  but 
amused  world  that  what  it  saw  of  a  tree  was  not 
the  tree — the  tree  was  underground. 

Whilst  painting  in  the  Val  d'Arpette  in  June 
of  this  year  (1910),  I  met  with  a  striking  instance 
of  the  boisterous  treatment  to  which  these  plants 
must  accustom  themselves.  The  day  was  radiantly 
fine  (as  any  one  may  see  from  the  picture  facing 
page  24),  yet  suddenly,  and  without  warning,  a 
most  violent  wind  tore  through  the  little  valley, 
sweeping  everything  loose  and  insecure  before  it, 
upsetting  my  easel  and  camp-stool,  carrying  my 
Panama  hat  up  on  to  the  snow,  and  making  of 
the  Anemones  and  Violas  a  truly  sorry  sight. 

This  violence,  albeit  of  a  somewhat  different 
nature,  reminded  me  of  several  experiences  I  had 
had  of  uncommonly  powerful  eddies  of  wind, 
travelling,  like  some  waterspout  at  sea,  slowly, 
in  growling,  whirring  spirals,  over  the  steep 
pastures,  tearing  up  the  grass  and  blossoms  and 
carrying  them  straight  and  high  up  into  the  air ; 
whilst  all  around — except  myself! — remained  un- 
moved and  peaceful.  I  have  seen  such  eddies 
strike  a  forest,  shaking  and  swaying  the  giant 
pines  like  saplings,  wrenching  off  dead  wood  and 


54     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

many  a  piece  of  living  branch,  and  whirling  them 
aloft.  Under  a  glorious  sky  and  amid  the  solitude 
and  stillness  of  the  Alps,  such  violence  is  at  least 
uncanny,  if  not  a  little  unnerving.  One  is  moved 
to  turn  in  admiration  to  the  ever-smiling  Alpines 
and  ejaculate : 

"  Brave  flowers — that  I  could  gallant  it  like  you, 
And  be  as  little  vain  ! " 

With  this  as  a  sample — and  a  by  no  means 
uncommon  sample — of  what  they  have  to  with- 
stand, small  wonder  that  so  many  of  these  plants 
have  endowed  themselves  with  such  a  deep, 
tenacious  grip  upon  their  home  !  Try  with  your 
trowel  to  dig  up  an  entire  root  of,  for  instance, 
the  Alpine  Clover  {Trifolium  alpinum),  or  the 
Sulphur  Anemone,  or  the  Bearded  Campanula, 
or  the  tall  blue  Rampion  {Phyteuma  betonicifolium), 
or  even  so  diminutive  a  plant  as  Sibbaldia  pro- 
cumbens,  or  of  so  modest  a  one  as  Plant  ago  alpina, 
and  you  vrill  be  astounded  at  the  depth  to  which 
you  must  delve.  You  will  find  it  the  same  with  a 
hundred  other  subjects  ;  and,  unless  you  be  digging 
in  some  loose  and  gritty  soil,  most  probably  your 
amazement  will  end  in  despair,  and  in  destruction 
to  the  plant.     More  likely  than  not,  you  will  hack 


IN   STORM   AND   SHINE  55 

through  the  main  root  long  before  you  have  un- 
earthed the  end  of  it.  If  for  no  other  reason  than 
this,  then,  it  is  at  least  unwise  to  try  to  uproot 
these  pasture-flowers.  Should  they  be  required 
for  the  home-garden,  it  is  far  wiser  and  better 
behaviour  to  gather  seed  from  them  later  in  the 
season.  Most  of  them  grow  admirably  from  seed 
thus  gathered  and  sown  as  soon  as  'possible  ;  most 
of  them  develop  rapidly  and  blossom  within  two 
years  ;  and  with  this  grand  advantage  over  up- 
rooted plants— they  are  able  to  acclimatize  them- 
selves from  birth  to  their  new  conditions  and 
surroundings,  their  translation  being  no  rude  and 
abrupt  transition  from  one  chmate  to  another. 

In  this  and  in  many  other  directions,  it  is  when 
bad  weather  sweeps  the  Alps  that  w^e  can  perhaps 
best  learn  from  Nature  wdiat  Emerson  learnt  from 
her :  that  "  she  suffers  nothing  to  remain  in  her 
Kingdom  which  cannot  help  itself."  And,  in 
learning  how  these  plants  help  themselves,  we 
are  also  learning  how  best  we  can  help  them  w^hen 
w^e  remove  them  to  our  gardens.  Bad  weather 
is  the  greatest  of  teachers  all  the  world  over.  On 
sunny  days  we  enjoy  and  admire  what  is  very 
largely  the  product  of  the  storms. 

Everything,  even  the  worst  thing,  in  its  place. 


56     FI.OWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

is  a  good  thing.  As  all  sunshine  and  no  storm 
would  make  man  a  nonentity,  so  would  it  produce 
Alpines  devoid  of  their  present  great  ability  and 
comeliness.  A  thing  of  complete  beauty  is  a  thing 
of  all  weathers  ;  and  it  is  a  thing  of  present  joy, 
and  of  joy  for  ever,  because  of  much  anguish 
in  the  past.  You  and  I  could  see  nothing  of 
loveliness  if  it  were  not  for  ugliness ;  and  these 
Alpines  would  not  be  worth  looking  at  were  it 
not  for  the  awful  attempts  made  by  Nature  to 
overwhelm  them.  "  A  perpetual  calm  will  never 
make  a  sailor  " ;  or,  as  Mr.  Dooley  says,  "  Foorce 
rules  the  wurruld  " — and  keeps  it  peacefully  dis- 
turbed, bewitchingly  "alive." 

And  Alpine  inclemency  possesses  an  aesthetic 
value  which  is  as  important  as  it  is  alluring. 
Whether  "  in  the  smiles  or  anger  of  the  high  air," 
these  flower-fields  are  invariably  things  of  beauty ; 
even  as  the  diamond  glitters  in  the  gloom,  so  do 
these  pastures  shine  throughout  the  storm.  What 
could  be  more  ssthetically  beautiful  than  the 
rosy  expanses  of  Mealy  Primrose  bathed  in  dense, 
driving  mists,  or  (as  in  the  picture  facing  page  16) 
the  regiments  of  Globe- Flower,  standing  pale  but 
fascinating,  in  weather  which,  were  we  down  on 
the  plains,  we  should  consider  "  not  fit  for  a  dog 


no  storm 
vouid  make  man  a  noi  !t  produce 

' '■■  • ^ id  of  the  1 1   |.  ••  '  *- 

\    ^Hing  of  CO; 

md  it  is  a  tix 
because   or 
irl    I    could  .' 

i  or  ugliness : 

"  iiig  at 

J       by   Nat;  __    .■ 

\  perpetual  calm  will  neve 

Field  of   CAMPANULA    RHOMBOIDALIS  on 
.     ,,  the      Col      de      la      Forclaz,     abqy.t . , ,  th<?, , 

tnri)         l->eginning  of  July. 


illy  beautiful    than   ll  e 
V  i'rimrose  bathed  in  dense, 
,,  .  _     i  the  picture  ficint/  :>  L>-f  TH') 

the  regiments  of  Globe- Flowc 
g,  in  weather  w! 


IN  STORM   AND   SHINE  57 

to  be  abroad  in  "  ?  Or  what  more  winsome  than 
the  widespread  colonies  of  Bartsia,  JMicheU's  Daisy, 
Pedicularis,  Biscutella,  and  Bell-Gentian  {Gentiana 
verna,  unfortunately,  is  closed  when  the  sun  hides 
itself),  lying  subdued  but  colour-full  beside  the 
steaming  waters  of  the  lake  ? 

Ah  !  where  one  of  these  Alpine  lakes  is  in  the 
landscape,  what  wonders  of  Nature's  artistry  we 
may  watch  when  rough  winds  howl  and  toss  the 
seething  cloud  into  ever-changing  combinations  of 
tint,  form,  and  texture  ! 

"  With  how  ceaseless  motion,  with  how  strange 
Flowing  and  fading,  do  the  high  Mists  range 
The  gloomy  gorges  of  the  Mountains  bare " ! 

A  hundred  hues  of  grey  fill  the  vapour-laden  air 
and  are  mirrored  in  receptive  waters — hues  with 
which  the  fresh  rose  of  the  Primula  and  the  rich, 
full  yellow  of  the  Marsh- INI arigold  blend  with 
perfect  fehcity,  lending  that  touch  of  human  appeal 
which  makes  the  scene  ideal. 

The  forests,  too,  are  never  so  picturesque  as 
when  clouds  cling  to  the  pine  and  larch,  softening 
the  tone  and  carriage  of  these  somewhat  formal 
trees,  and  breaking  up  every  suggestion  of  monotony 
in  their  reiterated  masses.  A  soft,  weird,  inti- 
mately mysterious  beauty  reigns  over  everythmg. 


58    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

What  matter  the  winds  and  the  rains  if  they 
bring  us  such  expression  ?  By  what  is  regret 
justified  in  all  this  witchery  ?  Regret  that  the  sun 
no  longer  shines,  inducing  the  Vernal  Gentian  to 
open  wide  its  bright  blue  eyes  ?  Nay  ;  here,  in 
Alp-land,  if  nowhere  else,  does  an  ultimate 
philosophy  speak  possibly  of  what  is  actual ;  here, 
if  nowhere  else,  bad  weather  is  but  a  de^'ghtiiiil 
foil  to  bright  and  sunny  days.  Regret !  There 
is  no  right  room  for  such  repining :  no  sound  and 
balanced  reason  to  moan,  as  moans,  for  instance, 
the  Chinese  poet : 

"  If   only    to    darken    the    darkness,    O    Thou    in   Thy 
heavens  above, 
Why    dost  Thou    light  for  a  moment    the   lamp  of 
a  beautiful  thing  ?  " 

For  in  the  Alps  the  lamp  of  Beauty  burns  without 
cessation  ;  and  where  wondrous  flowering  pastures 
border  some  rough-cut  lake,  legacy  from  glaciers 
long  since  retired,  the  lamp  burns  always  brightly. 
By  writing  of  inclemency  in  such  full-flavoured 
tones,  I  am  not  trying  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad 
case ;  I  am  simply  and  honestly  setting  forth  the 
undoubted  good  there  is  in  what  mdy  seem  "  im- 
possible." Any  one  who  has  lived  with  these  things 
and  has  watched  them  springtime  after  springtime, 


IN   STORM   AND   SHINE  59 

is  usually  in  no  way  eager  to  run  away,  although 
well  aware  that  the  sheltered  distractions  of  the 
towns  are  within  quite  easy  reach.  One  finds  no 
really  compensating  counterpart  in  kursaals  and 
shop-windows  for  an  Alpine  springtime  where 
flowering  pastures  kiss  "the  crystal  treasures  of 
the  liquid  world."  One  need  not  be  a  poet,  one 
need  not  be  a  painter,  one  need  not  be  a  mystic, 
and  one  certainly  need  be  no  *'  neurasthenic "  to 
appreciate  the  figurative  sunshine  of  which  spring's 
Alpine  inclemency  is  redolent.  One  has  but  to 
be  natural — a  sanely-simple  human  being,  dis- 
missing the  hampering  prejudices  and  conventions 
born  of  towns,  and  allowing  the  appeal  of  Nature 
to  come  freely  into  its  own.  Then  oneself  is 
busy  a- weaving — a- weaving  of  cobweb  dreams  ; 
and  the  cobwebs  are  woven  of  material  worthy, 
substantial,  and  real.  One's  dreams  are  not  of  that 
solid,  sordid  order,  nor  of  that  frail,  unhealthy 
nature  so  common  with  dreams  arising  from  un- 
natural town-life.  They  are  children  of  completest 
sanity,  and  they  are  in  no  part  begot  of  ennui. 
One  builds,  and  one  builds  for  health's  sake ;  nor 
does  the  building  know  aught  of  "  castles  in  Spain." 
There  is  no  question  here  of  anaemic  fancy.  All 
that  one  dreams  is  not  only  possible,  but  sound. 


60    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE   SWITZERLAND 

touching  upon  realities  which  control  and  direct 
the  best  of  destinies.  Compared  with  town-life, 
one  is  in  a  new  world ;  and  it  is  often  astounding 
to  think  that  town-life  is  a  necessity  to  which  one 
is  obliged  to  add  the  important  word  "  imperative." 
And  all  this  may  be  so  even  in  wet  weather. 
Here,  even  when  clouds  hold  everything  in  damp 
and  clinging  embrace,  we  may 

"Grow  rich  in  that  which  never  taketh  rusf 

And  grow  rich  quite  comfortably  ;  for  have  we  not 
our  mackintoshes  and  goloshes  I 

The  Alps  are  not  ours  for  climbing  purpose 
only.  They  are  not  for  us  only  when  winter 
rules  and  gives  us  sports  abounding,  or  when  the 
snows  retire  to  the  cradles  of  the  glaciers,  and  the 
days  of  late  July  and  those  of  August  and  Sep- 
tember grant  us  the  conditions  we  most  seek  for 
long  excursions.  They  are  ours  also  for  an  in- 
termediate season  :  a  season  of  the  utmost  value, 
though,  maybe,  not  for  "  sport."  Mr.  Frederic 
Harrison,  speaking  of  "  the  eternal  mountains, 
vocal  with  all  the  most  majestic  and  stirring 
appeals  to  the  human  spirit,"  and  of  the  treatment 
of  them  by  those  who  think  only  of  "  rushing  from 
pass  to  pass  and  from  peak  to  peak  in  order  to  beat 


IN   STORM   AND   SHINE  61 

Tompkins  time  or  establish  a  new  record,"  says  : 
"  Switzerland  might  be  made  one  of  the  most 
exquisite  schools  of  every  sense  of  beauty,  one  of 
the  most  pathetic  schools  of  spiritual  wonder." 
And  Mr.  Harrison  is  right :  this  school  exists,  and 
is  no  mere  fiction  wrought  of  sentimental  thinking. 
Nor  is  it  ever  closed  to  students — although  there 
be  periods  when  the  attendance  is  lamentably 
slack.  We  know  that  its  doors  stand  wide  open 
in  the  winter  and  in  the  summer ;  let  it  be 
known,  and  as  well  known,  that  they  stand  equally 
wide  open  in  the  spring.  Let  it  be  known, 
moreover,  that  in  spite  sometimes  of  fickle,  fitful 
weather,  it  is  in  the  spring,  above  all  other 
seasons,  that  this  school  is  "  one  of  the  most 
exquisite  schools  of  every  sense  of  beauty,  one  of 
the  most  pathetic  schools  of  spiritual  wonder." 

Then  once  again, 

"  The  sunlight,  leaping  from  the  Heights, 
Flames  o'er  the  fields  of  May, 

And  butterflies  and  insect  mites, 
Born  with  the  new-blown  day, 
Cross  fires  in  shifting  opal  lights 
From  spray  to  beckoning  spray," 


62    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

and  we  are  aware  that  during  the  brief  period  of 
inclemency  a  very  astonishing  change  has  been 
taking  place  in  our  surroundings  under  cover  of 
the  heavy  mists.  Nature  has  been  speedily  busy, 
robing  the  fields  in  garments  fit  for  June.  Before 
the  mists  closed  down  upon  us  a  few  days  ago 
insect-life  was  noticeable  mo.3tly  by  its  scarcity. 
Except  for  the  Orange-Tip  and  Dingy  Skipper 
butterflies,  and  for  the  Skipper-like  moth,  Euclidia 
Mi,  flitting  among  the  Saponarias,  Daisies,  and 
Geums,  and  for  a  dainty  milk-white  spider  on  the 
rosy  heads  of  Piimula  fminosa,  there  was  little 
of  "  life  "  among  the  flowers.  But  now  the  butter- 
flies are  legion,  a  brilliant  pea-green  spider  has 
joined  the  white  one,  and  lustrous  little  beetles — 
among  the  most  beautiful  of  Alpine  creatures — 
are  either  frolicking  or  basking  in  the  glorious 
sunshine  on  the  wild  Peppermint  and  other 
fragrant  herbs.  As  for  the  flowers  themselves, 
they  have  more  than  doubled  in  kind,  if  not 
actually  in  beauty  and  in  number. 

Indeed,  there  is  such  transformation  in  the 
meadows  as  makes  us  rub  our  eyes  and  wonder 
if  we  have  not  slept  the  sleep  of  Rip  van  Winkle  ! 
The  Gentians  have  all  but  gone,  the  Anemone 
also,  and  Primula  farinosa  has  become  most  rare. 


IN   STORM  AND  SHINE  63 

In  their  places  stand  the  Globe-Flower,  the  Bis- 
tort, the  Paradise  Lily  (barely  open),  the  Sylvan 
Geranium,  the  blue  Centaurea,  and  the  pale  yellow 
Biscutella,  while  the  last  blossoms  of  Anemone 
sulphurea  have  been  joined  by  the  exquisite  blush- 
tinted  heads  of  Anemone  narcissiflora.  It  is  as 
though  some  curtain  had  rolled  swiftly  up  upon 
another  landscape — one  which,  as  we  are  but 
human,  we  must  applaud  more  rapturously  than 
we  did  the  last.     For — 

"To-day    fresh    colours    break    the    soil,    and    butterflies 
take  wing 
Down  broidered   lawns    all    bright    with    pearls    in    the 
oarden  of  the  King." 

And  although  we  still  may  say  we  are  in  dainty 
May,  more  than  the  toe  of  our  best  foot  is 
already  in  gorgeous  June. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    JUNE    MEADOWS 

"  The  showers  ai'e  over,  the  skiffiug  showers^ 
Come,  let  us  rise  and  go 
Where  the  happy  mountain  flowers. 
Children  of  the  young  June  hours. 
In  their  sweet  haunts  blow." 

Principal  Shairp. 

"  On  prete  aux  riches,"  and  here  is  Nature  lending 
yet  more  wealth  to  fields  that  were  already  so 
wealthy !  It  is  simply  amazing  with  what  doting 
enthusiasm  she  pours  her  floral  riches  upon  the 
Alps  !  Many  who  know  only  the  June  fields  in 
England  think  that  we  who  write  of  the  Swiss 
fields  at  this  season  are  either  in  a  chronic  state 
of  hysteria,  or  else  do  wilfully  point  our  story  as 
if  it  were  a  snake  story  or  the  story  of  a  tiger- 
hunt.  But,  let  the  fact  be  known,  in  writing  or 
speaking  upon  this  subject,  the  exigencies  of  the 
English   language  oblige  us  to   be   temperate  ;   it 

64 


In  the  EARLY  JULY  FIELDS  at  Champex. 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  65 

is  quite  impossible  to  exaggerate.  We  may  use 
all  the  adjectives  in  AVebster,  yet  have  we  not 
even  then  said  enough.  Acutely  conscious  of  our 
ineffectual  effort,  we  have,  nevertheless,  done  our 
best.  We  could  say  no  more  :  the  rest  we  must 
feel,  and  endeavour  that  our  readers  shall  feel 
with  us. 

Maybe  it  is  with  us  as  it  was  with  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson  when  he  was  at  Davos  in  search 
of  a  remedy  for  the  malady  that  afterwards  drove 
him  to  Samoa  and  to  an  early  grave  upon  her 
mountains — maybe  all  our  "little  fishes  talk  like 
whales  "  ;  but,  believe  us,  whale-talk  is  the  only 
talk  befitting.  If  Stevenson  finds  "  it  is  the  Alps 
who  are  to  blame,"  we  find  it  is  quite  as  much 
the  fault  of  the  Alpine  flora  ;  and  if  Stevenson 
found  comfort  in  the  fact  that  he  was  not  alone  in 
being  forced  to  "  this  yeasty  inflation,  this  stiff 
and  strutting  architecture  of  the  sentence,"  so  also 
can  we. 

We  English  are  not  the  only  ones  to  find 
ourselves  at  the  ineffectual  extreme  of  language. 
The  German  tourist — and  he  is  nowadays  more 
enterprisingly  early  than  are  we  in  visiting  the 
Alps — is  equally  at  a  loss,  as  he  stands  in  wonder- 
ment and,  with  characteristic  emphasis,  repeatedly 


66    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

utters  the  one  resounding  word  "  Kolossal ! " 
Even  the  Englishman  loses  his  habitual  reserve, 
and,  if  he  does  not  voice  his  wonderment  as 
loudly  as  does  his  Teutonic  brother,  he  is  at 
least  amazed  in  his  own  insular  way.  Assuredly, 
if  these  flowers  themselves  could  speak,  and  speak 
out  frankly,  they  would  declare  our  seemingly 
over-coloured  appreciation  a  very  tame  perform- 
ance ;  they  would  vouch  that  we  are  a  long  way 
from  being  in  the  shoes  of  the  proverbial  amateur 
fisherman. 

But  let  me,  without  further  ado,  attempt  to 
describe  some  of  the  cause  for  this.  Let  me  turn 
again  for  example  to  Champex  and  to  notes  made 
on  the  spot,  and  speak  of  a  seven-hours'  walk  down 
the  rapid  southern  slopes  which  fall  away  from 
the  lake,  by  the  village  of  Prassorny,  along  the 
Val  Ferret  to  Praz  de  Fort  and  the  massif  of 
Saleinaz,  and  back  again  to  Champex  by  that 
scramble  of  a  path  which  mounts  the  slopes 
directly  from  the  village  of  Ville  d'Issert.  This 
walk  takes  us  from  4,800  feet  down  to  some  3,300 
feet,  and  affords  us  as  representative  a  range  of 
slopes  and  fields  as  we  could  find  anywhere. 
Starting  amid  rolling  hectai^es  of  Orchids  and 
Lilies,   passing   along   wide  slopes  bestrewn  with 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  67 

Lychnis  and  Anthericum,  winding  through  copse 
and  forest-edge  peopled  with  Everlasting  Pea  and 
Alpine  Eglantine,  we  arrive  by  entrancing  stages 
amid  crowded  meadows  of  Salvia,  Bistort,  Ranun- 
culus, Campion,  Marguerite,  Geranium,  Campa- 
nula, and  Phyteuma — meadows  which,  in  long  and 
wide-flung  swell,  sweep  like  a  multi-coloured  wave 
to  lave  the  snowy  sides  and  graceful,  flowing  forms 
of  the  Groupe  du  Grand  Saint-Bernard  and  Grand 
Golliaz. 

Used  as  I  am  to  the  glories  of  the  mountain 
flora,  I  am  moved  afresh  to  wonder  each  time  I 
come  intimately  amongst  them,  and  such  a  walk  as  I 
took  this  day,  the  15th  of  June,  is  always  a  revela- 
tion. From  the  very  start  to  the  very  finish  there 
was  a  continuous  procession  of  as  amazingly  rich 
and  variedly  coloured  fields  as,  surely,  any  quarter 
of  the  globe  would  find  it  difficult  to  surpass. 
Sometimes  the  predominant  colour  was  clear 
yellow,  sometimes  rich  French  blue,  and  not  in- 
frequently, when  there  was  no  such  distinct  pre- 
dominance, the  fields,  especially  when  the  sun 
was  at  the  back  of  me,  were  as  bewildering  as, 
I  imagine,  would  be  fields  flashing  with  a  profusion 
of  every  known  gem.  Steep  grassy  slopes — in 
places  almost  perpendicular  ;  long,  hot  stretches  of 


68     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

grass-grown  grit  and  rubble  ;  rich  ousy  dips  and 
hollows  ;  undulating  acres  of  wavy,  feather-light 
meadows — all  were  decked  alike  in  such  kaleido- 
scopic abundance  as  forced  me  repeatedly  to 
exclaim  :  "  Oh  that  some  of  this  loveliness  could  be 
translated  as  fields  to  England  !  If  only  England 
would  try  I  " 

Here  I  must  beg  leave  to  make  a  slight  di- 
gression from  the  strictness  of  my  subject.  At 
one  spot  in  the  steep  descent,  just  outside  the 
tiny  hamlet  of  Prassorny,  I  came  upon  a  blaze 
of  colour  which  stood  out  from  all  else — a  pre- 
eminently arresting  object  in  the  landscape.  It 
was,  of  all  things,  our  old  friend  the  scarlet  Field 
Poppy !  To  come  upon  this  inimitable  flower 
spread  in  serried  numbers  over  a  large  square  of 
ground  on  a  steep  slope  at  an  altitude  of  over 
4,000  feet,  was  not  a  little  surprising.  Waving 
its  battalions  of  fiery  blossoms  against  the  grey 
mist-filled  valley  beneath,  with  old  sun  and  wind- 
stained  chalets  standing  just  beside,  it  was  an 
irresistible  motif  for  a  painter.  Seemingly  as 
much  at  home  as  in  any  field  in  England,  it 
appeared  of  even  greater  brilliance  than  with 
us — having,  perhaps,  caught  something  of  the 
humour   of  the   Gentian.     That   this   Poppy  can 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  69 

possibly  intensify  its  hue  over  and  above  what 
we  know  it  can  achieve  in  the  cornfields  of  the 
plains,  will  seem  incredible — another  instance  of 
whale-talk  on  the  writer's  part !  And  yet  such 
is  certainly  the  case — as,  indeed,  it  is  the  case 
with  many  another  lowland  flower  whose  powers 
will  allow  it  to  climb.  These  poppies,  here  on 
this  slope,  stood  witness  for  the  fact ;  and  so, 
too,  did  the  other  lowland  flowers  growing  with 
them.  There  were  Cornflowers  and  Larkspur  of 
a  blue  more  rich  and  radiant  than  it  is  even  in 
the  plains ;  and  Viola  tricolor ^  too,  the  Pansy 
of  our  own  cornfields,  was  of  a  purple  and  yellow 
more  deep  than  we  are  accustomed  to  have  it. 
There  was,  also,  the  exquisite  Adonis  aestivalis 
of  most  vivid  salmon-orange — its  dainty  blossoms 
standing  like  fire-flies  against  the  rich  blue  masses 
of  Salvia  pratetisis. 

Yet  this  was  not  a  corn-patch  (one  can  scarcely 
call  them  corn-fields  at  this  altitude,  where  they 
are  mere  terraces,  many  of  them,  like  potato- 
patches,  standing  almost  at  an  angle  of  45°,  carved 
from  out  the  steep  mountain-side  by  generations 
of  thrifty  peasants).  In  all  probability,  however, 
this  particular  terrace  with  its  wealth  of  corn- 
field flowers  had  in  quite  recent  years  been  sown 


70    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

with  oats  or  rye.  Anyway,  it  were  well  worth 
taking  note  of  this  Poppy's  presence  hereabouts, 
if  only  because  on  the  slope  next  door  was  the 
Bell-Gentian ! 

After  this  "  parenthetic  enthusiasm "  over  so 
homely  an  intruder,  we  will  hie  us  back  to  the 
more  usual  denizens  of  these  slopes  and  fields. 
Perhaps  enough  has  already  been  said  to  show 
what  a  poor  thing  language  is  when  in  the 
presence  of  such  splendours  as  June  spreads 
before  us  in  the  Alps.  Very  few,  if  any,  of  the 
flowers  were  growing  singly  or  even  sparsely ; 
they  were  usually  in  dense  bright  masses,  or  close 
and  broad-spread  legions,  forming  an  "  infinite 
floral  broidery  "  stretching  above,  below,  in  front, 
and  behind  as  far  as  eye  could  reach.  What  a 
difficult,  almost  impossible  matter  it  has  been  to 
select  for  pictorial  presentation  such  sections  of 
this  wealthy  panorama  as  shall  give  some  small 
idea  of  the  whole,  will  readily  be  understood. 
Halting  attempts,  however,  will  be  found  in  the 
pictures  facing  pages  32  and  48.  And  to  supplement 
and  reinforce  these,  there  is,  at  the  end  of  this 
chapter,  a  short  list  of  the  chief  grass-land  flowers 
met  with  during  my  walk.  The  rock-plants,  and 
those    liking    the    poorest    of    soil,   though   they 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  71 

certainly  add  an  important  quota  to  the  brilliant 
prospect,  have  not  been  taken  into  account,  as 
they  fall  somewhat  outside  our  present  purpose. 

In  his  poem,  "  In  Praise  of  June,"  Leigh  Hunt 
sings : 

"  May,  by  coming  first  in  sight, 
Half  defrauds  thee  of  thy  right ; 
For  her  best  is  shared  by  thee 
With  a  wealthier  potency  ; 
So  that  thou  dost  bring  us  in 
A  sort  of  May-time  masculine.''' 

But  this  is  only  in  small  part  true  of  these 
Alpine  fields.  There  is,  to  be  sure,  something 
of  the  May  fields  in  the  June  fields,  but  all  of 
May's  best  is  certainly  not  shared  by  June — not, 
that  is  to  say,  unless  we  climb  up  higher  than 
we  intend  to  do.  The  Crocus  and  Soldanella 
have  gone ;  they  came  "  to  show  the  paths  that 
June  must  tread,"  not  to  tread  those  paths  with 
the  Orchid  and  the  Lily.  Gone,  also,  is  the  pure 
yellow-petalled  Mountain  Geum.  The  Marsh 
Marigold,  too,  is  no  longer  with  us  in  rich, 
golden  crowds ;  nor  does  the  Mealy  Primula 
spread  its  rosy  carpet  over  acre  upon  acre.     One 


72     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

misses,  also,  the  bright  white  presence  of  Micheli's 
Daisy;  and  the  Vernal  Gentian,  "blue  with  the 
beauty  of  windless  skies,"  though  still  lingering 
here  and  there,  is,  for  the  most  part,  hidden  by 
the  Grasses  and  the  Clovers. 

Ah  !  yes,  the  Clovers — pink,  rose-red,  crimson, 
cream,  white,  yellow  :  we  must  not  forget  these ! 
Of  goodly  and  varied  company,  they  are  such  im- 
portant units  in  the  rich  composition  of  most 
Alpine  meadows,  and,  where  they  grow,  they  form 
so  compact  a  groundwork  of  colouring  and  so 
admirable  a  setting  for  many  of  the  taller  flowers, 
that  it  were,  indeed,  a  dereliction  of  memory  to 
overlook  them!  What  could  be  lovelier  than  a 
wide  area  of  these  Clovers  in  June  sown  with  lilac, 
rose-tinted,  and  white  Orchids,  deep,  lustrous-blue 
Phyteumas,  paper-white  Paradise  Lilies,  and  in- 
finite hosts  of  the  bright  and  fascinating  little 
Euphrasia  ?  Or  in  July,  when  the  orange  Arnica, 
the  porcelain-blue  Campanula  barbata,  and  the 
graceful,  distinguished-looking  little  Thesium  al- 
pinum  make  their  ever-welcome  appearance  in  the 
fields  ?  Of  course,  there  are  degrees  even  in 
natural  felicity,  and  the  Orchids — with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  creamy-white  Butterfly  Orchis — are 
not  at  their  best   if  the   predominant  Clover  be 


Daisy;  and  the  Venial  Gentian,  **blue  with  t 
beauty 

here  anu    ..  .    l... 

the  Grassf*'^  Clovers. 

Ah! 

Of  y,theyr 

omposition    of  nn 


adh  EVENING  among  the  fields  of  pink  Bistort  at 
that  it  Lac  Champex  ;  sunset-glow  on  the  Grand 
overlcnr      Combin,  July. 


Vrnica, 


pin  ppearanc 

field i  j      i>\    coipse,    itiere    :.ve    degrees 
natural  felicity,  and  the  Orchids — with  tht 

the  creamy  utterfiy   Orchis — arc 

their  be-  ' '  ' 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  73 

red.  But,  speaking  generally,  the  groundwork  of 
Clovers  is  a  most  valuable  element  in  the  colour- 
ing of  these  pastures.  Were  this  groundwork 
removed  we  should  wonder  why  the  fields  and 
slopes  looked  so  meagre  and  thin.  And  this  is 
also  true  of  Euphrasia  officinalis,  the  Eyebright, 
a  very  precious,  though  humble  denizen  of  the 
fields  in  July.  This  plant,  by  the  way,  owes  its 
English  name,  not  to  its  flower  (as  in  the  case 
of  the  little  bright-blue  Speedwell,  Veronica 
Chamcedrys,  often  erroneously  called  Eyebright), 
but  to  an  infusion  of  the  plant  which  long  ago 
was  supposed  to  cure  defective  vision.  JNIilton, 
indeed,  causes  the  Archangel  IVlichael  to  use  it 
upon  Adam : 

"...  then  purged  with  Euphrasy  and  Rue 
The  visual  nerve,  for  he  had  much  to  see." 

Like  the  Clovers,  the  Eyebright  should  cer- 
tainly not  be  ignored,  though  it  is  easy  to 
do  so.  It  may  be  numbered  amongst  those 
things  we  should  miss  without  being  able  to 
say  what  we  do  miss — those  things  of  a  high 
and  unobtrusive  value,  partly  composed  of  half 
the  worth  of  things  in  greater  evidence.  In 
other   words,  it   is   amongst   those   things   which, 


74    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

in   a   quiet,  self-effacing  way,  enhance   their   sur- 
roundings. 

In  applying  the  term  "  distinguished-looking " 
to  the  little  Thesium,  I  am  minded  to  do  so 
because,  just  as  with  the  flowers  of  the  plain, 
there  is  an  elite  among  Alpines.  One  can  hardly 
explain  why.  Like  the  Roman  Emperor  who, 
when  asked  to  define  time,  said,  *'  I  know  when 
you  do  not  ask  me,"  one  feels  there  is  an  elite 
among  flowers,  though  one  is  scarcely  able  to 
define  it.  And  the  feeling  is  real  and  undoubtedly 
well-founded.  Nor,  to  feel  this,  is  it  necessary 
to  go  to  florist's  garden-flowers,  where  vulgarity  is 
rampant  (though  often  highly  prized  and  priced). 
The  feeling  comes  in  the  presence  of  any  field 
of  wild  flowers — the  feeling  that,  by  their  form 
and  bearing,  some  plants  are  more  well-bred  than 
others.  This  cannot  be  altogether  accounted  for 
by  their  colour  or  conspicuousness.  The  little 
Thesium,  or  the  little  silver-leaved  Alchemilla  are 
neither  of  them  bright,  conspicuous  plants.  It  is 
the  general  habit  that  impresses  :  the  "  atmosphere  " 
with  which  they  surround  themselves.  How 
manifest  this  is  when  one  meets  with  the  Paradise 
Lily  surrounded  by  a  sea  of  Hieracium,  Bistort, 
Blue  Bottle,  Trollius,  Geranium,  and  Salvia.    One 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  75 

singles  out  the  Lily  at  once,  though  it  be  close 
beside  the  exquisite  white  JNlarguerite ;  and  one's 
heart  goes  out  to  it,  above  its  companions,  as  a 
thing  of  greater  breeding — a  thing  taking  rank 
with  any  Loelia  or  Dendrobium. 

A  cat  is  not  a  horse  because  it  is  born  in 
a  stable ;  and  all  Alpines  are  not  of  the  same 
caste  because  they  are  born  in  the  Alps.  Among 
things  Alpine,  as  among  things  of  the  plain, 
there  is  degree  in  attainment.  Some  things 
have  had  occasion  to  travel  along  lines  that 
have  led  them  to  greater  refinement  than  others 
— just  as  man,  himself,  is  evidently  the  product 
of  particular  occasion  for  such  travel.  We  cannot 
blink  ourselves  to  the  fact  that  there  are  weeds 
even  among  the  Alpines — though  there  are  not 
so  many  as  280,  the  number  said  to  exist  in 
England. 

Degree  in  refinement  is,  perhaps,  to  some  extent 
indicated  by  the  way  a  plant  will  take  care  of 
itself.  All  plants  have  some  means  of  fending  for 
themselves,  and  these  means  are  as  varied  in 
morality  as  are  such  means  among  human  beings. 
Some  are  born  fighters,  brazen,  pushing,  and 
quarrelsome ;  others  win  through  life  by  com- 
parative  self-eft'acement.     Some   elbow   their  way 


76    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

to  any  place  they  want ;  others,  seemingly,  are 
content  to  be  where  they  are  wanted.  All,  of 
course,  battle  more  or  less  faithfully,  but  some 
are  forceful,  self-assertive,  while  others  resign 
themselves  to  unobtrusiveness.  No  plant  can 
accept  with  entire  equanimity  what  does  not 
altogether  agree  with  it ;  but  many  can  rough  it, 
putting  up  with  conditions  that  will  kill  others 
or  compel  them  to  retire.  Hence  we  have  weeds : 
rough-souled  invaders  who  make  themselves  too 
common. 

Although  "the  invariable  mark  of  wisdom 
is  to  see  the  miraculous  in  the  common,"  and 
although,  therefore,  we  may  admire,  and  quite 
reasonably  admire,  all  that  so  capably  wrestles 
with  extremes  of  circumstance  as  do  the  Alpines, 
yet  we  can  and  must  admit  that  some  are 
more  "  classy "  than  others.  For  instance,  the 
Alpine  Plantain  is,  according  to  our  instinct  and 
possibly  according  to  fact,  on  a  lower  rung  of  the 
ladder  of  vegetable  society  than  is  the  Alpine 
Auricula.  Both  struggle  with  much  the  same 
rigours  and  disabilities,  but  we  feel  obliged  to  find 
that  the  latter  has  evolved  greater  refinement  than 
the  former  from  its  struggles.  In  short,  Maeter- 
linck's ''gout  du  mieux  de  la  Nature''  is  as   pro- 


THE  JUNE   MEADOWS  77 

nounced  in  degree  among  Alpines  as  it  is  among 
valley  flowers  ;  there  is  an  aristocracy  even  in  the 
Alps. 

And  how  admirable,  for  the  most  part,  are  the 
names  these  plants  bear  ;  how  befitting  the  roman- 
tic character  and  circumstance  which  surrounds 
them,  Linaria,  Saponaria,  Salvia,  Ajuga,  An- 
thyllis,  Potentilla,  Artemisia— what  could  be  more 
charming  ?  Are  they  not  a  thousand  times  more 
suggestive  and  more  aesthetic  than  their  English 
counterparts— Toadflax,  Soapwort,  Sage,  Bugle, 
Kidney  Vetch,  Cinquefoil,  Wormwood  ?  Indeed, 
I  am  not  sure  but  that,  taking  them  as  a  whole, 
Latin  names  are  not  more  satisfactory  and  pic- 
turesque for  every  kind  of  flower — quite  apart 
from  the  important  and  simplifying  question  of  a 
common  vantage  ground  for  gardener,  scientist, 
and  general  public.  The  anonymous  writer  of 
"  Studies  in  Gardening,"  an  admirable  series  of 
essays  contributed  to  the  Times,  pleads  persuasively 
for  the  use,  as  far  as  possible,  of  English  names  in 
both  gardening  books  and  papers.  He  holds — and 
in  so  doing  he  is  by  no  means  singular — that  "  the 
rage  for  I^atin  names  has  gone  so  far  that  you  will 
now  sometimes  see  lilies  called  liliums " ;  he  be- 
moans the  growing  use  of  Sedum  instead  of  Stone- 


78    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

crop,  and  of  Antirrhinum  instead  of  Snapdragon, 
and  he  calls  it  an  "unnecessary  use  of  botanical 
terms,"  and  thinks  that  "  the  want  of  beautiful 
English  names  to  many  beautiful  flowers  seems  a 
reproach  to  their  beauty."  But  there  are  other 
authorities,  equally  numerous,  who  hold  a  contrary 
view,  considering  that  too  much  is  being  made  of 
EngHsh  names,  and  that  "  confusion  worst  con- 
founded "  is  a  very  natural  consequence.  One 
catches  the  sound  of  more  than  two  voices  in  the 
discussion  :  one  hears  not  only  the  several  plaints 
of  botanist  and  flower-lover,  but  also  the  claims 
of  the  champion  of  folk-lore,  the  mere  amateur 
gardener,  the  uncompromising  patriot,  and  the 
incorrigible  sentimentalist.  And  something  in 
reason  is  said  by  each  one  of  them — although 
honours  are  not  so  easy  as  to  enable  one  to  call  it 
a  case  of  six  of  one  and  half-a-dozen  of  the  other. 
For,  perhaps,  those  who  strive  for  a  languc  bleu  in 
this  domain  and  choose  Latin  have  the  weightier 
cause  at  heart.  George  Crabbe,  the  poet,  once 
wrote  an  Enghsh  treatise  on  botany,  but  never 
pubhshed  it,  because  of  the  remonstrances  of  the 
Master  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  who  ob- 
jected to  degrading  the  science  of  botany  by 
treating  it  in  a  modern  language.     Such  rigorous 


THE  JUNE   MEADOWS  79 

adhesion  to  Latin  is  of  the  relatively  narrow  past ; 
nor  is  this  dead  tongue  likely  ever  again  to  be  a 
subject  for  such  blind  idolatry.  No  doubt  in  time 
a  becoming  compromise  will  be  arrived  at  by  the 
two  camps — a  compromise  that  will  allow  a  rose 
to  be  a  rose,  and  not  oblige  it  to  be  always  and 
only  a  Rosa. 

"  Men  of  science  are  pitiless  tyrants,"  says 
Alphonse  Karr  in  "  Les  Fleurs  Animees."  "  See 
what  they  have  done  for  Botany,  that  charming 
and  graceful  study ! .  .  .  Without  pity  or  mercy,  they 
have  brutally  seized  upon  the  frail  daughters  of 
sky  and  dew  ;  they  have  crushed  and  mutilated 
them  ;  they  have  thrown  them  into  the  crucible 
of  Etymology,  and  after  all  these  awful  tortures, 
and  as  if  to  assure  themselves  of  impunity,  they 
have  hidden  their  victims  beneath  a  heap  of 
barbarous  names.  Thus,  thanks  to  them,  the 
Hawthorn,  that  symbol  of  virginity  and  hope, 
sighs  under  the  dreadful  name  Mcspilus  oxya- 
cantha.  .  .  .  All  that  is  frightful,  is  it  not  ?  .  .  . 
Unfortunately,  it  is  all  very  necessary.  To  admire 
is  not  to  know,  and,  in  order  to  know,  system 
and  method  are  indispensable.  .  .  .  How  could  we 
do  without  the  help  of  Etymology  ?  Pardon, 
then,  these  men  of  science,  who  have  done  nothing 


80    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

but  obey  the  law  of  necessity,  and  enter  into 
the  beautiful  domain  from  which  they  have  dis- 
sipated the  darkness."  This  is  delightfully  put 
and  is  all  very  true.  Latin  nomenclature  does 
tend  immensely  to  dispel  confusion,  though  in 
certain  quarters  it  may  wound  the  sense  of  senti- 
ment, and  we  shall  no  doubt  always  have  con- 
firmed adherents  of  popular  names. 

But,  however  it  may  be  with  the  use  of  popular 
names  in  England,  I  venture  to  think  we  have 
better  things  to  do  than  to  Anglicise  the  Alpines 
in  their  Swiss  home,  and  that— as  says  a  well- 
known  botanist — "  when  English  names  are  coined 
for  species  which  do  not  even  occur  in  Britain, 
the  result  is  sometimes  ridiculous,  e.g.  '  Dodo- 
noeus's  French  Willow '  for  an  Epilobium."  And 
it  is  not  alone  ridiculous  :  it  is  often  paltry  and 
in  the  worst  of  taste,  and  it  will  frequently 
drive  romance  and  beauty  from  the  Alpine  land- 
scape. What  is  there  aesthetic,  or  even  useful, 
about  "  Mignonette-leaved  Lady's  Smock "  for 
Cardamine  7^esedifolia  ;  "  Neglected  Pinkwort  "  for 
Dianthus  neglectus  ;  "  Doronic  Groundsel  " 
for  Senecio  Doronicum ;  or  "  Glacier's  Yarrow " 
for  Achillea  nana  ?  Are  not  the  Latin  names 
truer   and    more   beautiful  ?     And    are    they   not 


i  l^'-j  l)e;; 
-  ipn  red 


1  that- 


HAYMAKING  at  Champex  in  the  middle  of  July, 


th 


ff>r   Senecfo    Doroninim ;    or   "  G 
Are    r< 

a    oiore    ?)c:v,.''" 


THE  JUNE   MEADOWS  81 

as  easy  of  retention  as  their  English  substitutes  ? 
Shall  we  say  that  Campanula  harhata  is  not  a 
truer  title  than  "  Bearded  Harebell "  for  a  plant 
that  has  nothing  of  the  English  Harebell  about 
it  except  "  family  "  ?  Or  shall  we  say  that  it  is 
not  just  as  easy,  as  the  botanist  already  quoted 
points  out,  to  remember  A  triplex  deltoidea  as 
"  Deltoid-leaved  Orache  "  ?  Those  who,  advocating 
Enghsh  nomenclature  to  this  extent  in  the  Alps, 
plead  the  cause  of  intelligible  simplicity,  irresistibly 
recall  the  complicated  efforts  of  those  who  aim 
at  the  Simple  Life.  And,  on  the  whole,  their 
efforts  are  no  less  ugly. 

But  let  us  not  stand  haggling  over  such  con- 
tentious matter.     Revenojis  a  nos  moutons  ! 

Scanning  these  fields  and  slopes,  noting  "  the 
lavish  hand  of  June,"  and  remembering  that  July's 
hand  will  be  no  whit  less  lavish,  we  realise  without 
any  difficulty  that  there  are  more  than  twice  as 
many  flowering  plants  indigenous  to  Switzerland 
as  in  the  whole  of  the  British  Isles.  Indeed, 
June  alone  could  easily  convince  us  of  this.  What 
wealth  I  One  feels  that  the  proper  way,  the 
only  adequate  way  of  enjoying  it  is  to  abjure 
hotels  and  camp  out  in  the  midst  of  it  all. 
When  the  meal- time  beU  rings  out  from  the 
6 


82     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Hotel-Pension,   one   turns  in   answer  to    it   with 
reluctance,  declaring: 

"  I  could  be  content  to  see 
June  and  no  variety, 
Loitering  here,  and  living  there. 
With  a  book  and  frugal  fare, 
With  a  finer  gypsy  time, 
And  a  cuckoo  in  the  clime." 

And  when  the  end  of  June  arrives,  and  with 
it  the  Arnica,  the  Greater  Astrantia,  the  orange- 
red  Hawkweed,  the  Burnet  buttei^fly,  and  the 
passage  of  the  bell-decked  cows  to  the  higher 
Alpine  pastures — "  Liauba  I  Liauba  !  por  alpa  ! " 
— we  may  tremble  for  the  coming  of  the  scythe. 
Already  it  will  be  commencing  its  deadly  work 
2,000  feet  below,  and  its  advance  is  rapid  and 
quite  regardless  of  all  we  flower-lovers  may  mutter 
under  our  breath,  or  more  probably  say  aloud. 
However,  we  must  be  reasonable.  Complaints 
of  this  description  are  not  in  order.  The  world 
must  be  helped  round  :  hay  must  be  made, 
and  the  flowers  are  not,  and  cannot  be,  our 
all-in-all.  We  benefit  most  by  being  season- 
able ;  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  good  thereof ; 
and  the  good  of  a  day  need  not  die  with  the 
day.     We  take   our  fill   of  these   flowers   whilst 


THE   JUNE   MEADOWS  8S 

we  reasonably  may  ;  recollection  does  the  rest  for 
us  in  the  gap  of  seasons.  An  emotion  passed  is 
yet  part  of  our  life — our  life's  memory  ;  and,  in 
Meredith's  words, 

"  Dead  seasons  quicken  in  one  petal  spot   of  colour  un- 
forgot," 

For  enough  is  far  better  than  a  feast.  It  is  one 
thing  to  be  spiritually  sentimental ;  it  is  quite 
another  thing  to  know  where  to  draw  a  right 
line  in  spiritual  sentiment.  Happy  the  man  who 
is  endowed  with  the  double  capacity ;  happy  the 
man  who  can  allow  these  flowers  to  lift  him  to 
a  higher  plane  of  being ;  and  then,  when  reason- 
ableness begins  to  flag,  turn  to  his  floral  cicerones 
and  say  with  firmness  :  "  Excuse  me,  but  I  must 
now  be  getting  back  to  dinner.  And  you,  in 
your  turn,  you  know,  must  be  preparing  to  be 
dinner  for   the  cows." 


SOME   PROMINENT   PASTURE   FLOWERS 
IN   BLOOM    AROUND    CHAMPEX,  JUNE    15,   1910 

Ajtiga  pyramidal'is  (Alpine  Bugle). 
Alchemilla  alpina. 

„  vulgaris  (Lady's  Mantle). 

Anemone  narcisftiflora. 

„       snlphiirca. 


84    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Antennaria  dioica  (Cudweed  ;  Cafs-ear). 
Anthericum  Liliago. 

„  ramosum. 

Anthyllis    vulneraria,  forma   alpestris   (Kidney    Vetch    or 
Ladies'  Fingers), 
Biscutella  Icevigata. 
Campanula  rhomhoidalis. 

„  rotundifolia. 

Centauiea   montana   (Bluebottle ;    Knapweed ;    Mountain 
Cornflower). 

Cerastium  arvense  (Field  Mouse-ear). 
Dianthus  Carthusianorum  (Carthusian  Pink). 
Echium  vulgare  (Viper's  Bugloss). 
Euphrasia  alpina. 

„  miriima  (Yellow  Eyebright). 

„  officinalis  (Eyebright). 

Geranium  sylvaticum  (Wood  Crane's-bill). 
Geum  rivale  (Water  Avens). 
Globularia  cordifoUa. 
Hippocrepis  comosa  (Horseshoe  Vetch). 
Lathyrus  heterophyllus  (Mountain  Everlasting  Pea). 

„       sylvestris  (Wood  Everlasting  Pea). 
Linum  alpinum  (Alpine  Flax). 
Lotus  cornicidatus  (Bird's-foot  Trefoil). 
Lychnis  dioica  (Wood  Campion). 
„       Flos-cucidi  (Ragged  Robin). 
„       viscaria  (Red  Catchfly). 
Muscari  comosum. 

Myosotis  alpestris  (Alpine  Forget-me-not). 
Onobrychis  vicicefolia  (Sainfoin). 


THE  JUNE   MEADOWS  85 

OjR(;hii)s  : 

Cephalanthera  ensifolid\ 

J  \  Helleborine. 

„  I'um-a      J 

Gijmmidenia  odoratissima  and  G.  conopsea. 

Hahenaria  {Cocloglossum)  viridis  (Frog  Orchis). 

Nigritella  nigra  {angustifolia)  (Vanilla  Orchis). 

Orchis  latifoUa. 

„      maculata. 

„      tistulata. 

Plantanthera  or  Habenaria  hifolia  (Butterfly  Orchis). 

Paradism  Liliastnim  (Paradise  or  St.  Bruno's  Lily). 

Pedicularis  tuberom  (Yellow  Lousewort). 

Phytewna  beto7iicifolium] 

, .     ,  f  Ranipion 

„        orbtculare       j  '■ 

Pimpinella  magna  rosea. 

Poly  gala  alpestris  \ 

,       .    \  Milkwort. 
„       vulgaris  J 

Polygonum  Bistorta  (Snake-root ;  Bistort). 

„  viviparum  (Alpine  Knotweed). 

Potentilla  rupestris  (Strawberry-flowered  Cinquefoil). 

Ranunculus  aconitifoUus  (Fair  Maid  of  France). 

Reseda  luteola  (Mignonette ;  Weld  or  Dyer's  Weed). 

Rhinanthus  angiistlfoUus  (Yellow  Rattle). 

Rosa  alp'ina  (Alpine  Brier  or  Eglantine). 

Salvia  pratensis  (]\Ieadow  Sage  ;  ('lary) 

Scabiosa  lucida. 

Silene  injlata  (Bladder  Campion). 

Trollkis  europccus  (Globe-Flower). 

Valeriana  trtpteris  (Trefoil  Valerian). 


CHAPTER  VII 

ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR 

"  We,  having  a  secret  to  others  unknown. 
In  the  cool  mountain-mosses, 
May  whisper  together  ..." 

Henry  Kendall,  September  in  Australia. 

Our  knowledge  of  life  behind  the  balder  mani- 
festations of  life  is  as  yet  so  deficient  that  it  would 
be  pure  conceit  to  pretend  more  than  lightly  to 
suggest  certain  thoughts  that  may  possibly  com- 
mence to  explain  something  of  the  affinity  exist- 
ing between  ourselves  and  the  flowers.  That  such 
an  affinity  does  actually  exist  there  appears  suffi- 
cient evidence  to  warrant  our  believing,  and  no 
one,  I  imagine,  with  an  interested  eye  for  these 
matters,  would  care  to  pronounce  against  this 
evidence  without  making  careful  reservations.  And 
if  this  affinity  exists  for  one  it  exists  for  all,  though 
in  some,  because  of  the  variable  nature  of  the  human 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR  87 

mechanism,  it  is  less  demonstrable  than  in  others. 
Nor  does  it  show  itself  merely  in  our  admiration 
and  care  for  the  flowers ;  there  are  many  instances 
of  its  appearing  in  a  form  which  borders  upon 
the  "  uncanny " — a  form  of  that  universal  and 
universally  sympathetic  sub-consciousness  which 
Psychology  is  doing  its  best  to  investigate. 

Thoreau  in  one  of  his  Essays  mentions  how 
that  one  day  he  wished  to  find  a  certain  rare 
orchid,  but  had  no  idea  in  which  direction  to  seek 
it;  and,  setting  out  in  this  blind  state  of  mind, 
his  steps  took  him  straight  to  the  very  object  of 
his  quest.  Of  course  those  in  whom  prejudice 
is  a  more  real  possession  than  open-mindedness 
will  dismiss  such  evidence  as  pointing  to  mere 
coincidence  or  to  an  unmistakable  case  of  chance. 
They  will  say  the  same,  too,  of  the  instance  mentioned 
by  Mr.  H.  Stuart  Thompson  in  an  article,  "  Ten 
Days  in  Co.  Kerry,"  which  appeared  in  the 
Gardeners  Chronicle  ior  October  22,  1910.  "My 
companion,"  says  Mr.  Thompson,  "  makes  no  claim 
to  be  a  botanist,  but  he  has  an  innate  faculty  for 
finding  good  plants  if  they  are  to  be  found  ;  and 
let  it  be  said  here  that  during  a  ski-ing  holiday 
in  Switzerland  last  winter  he  managed  to  grub 
up  through  the  snow  quite  a  wonderful  collection 


88    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

of  interesting  Alpines  which  are  succeeding  capitally 
on  his  rockery."  This  will  also  be  called  coin- 
cidence ;  but  there  is,  I  believe,  far  less  justifica- 
tion for  doing  so  than  for  calling  it  sympathy. 
Personally,  I  have  more  liking  for  design  in  these 
matters  than  I  have  for  luck.  Surely  it  were  a 
poor  world — nay,  an  impossible  world — that  were 
governed  by  chance  in  whatsoever  degree.  Evolu- 
tion may  know  no  "  categorical  imperative "  and 
yet  be  a  stranger  to  aimless  drifting.  The 
law  of  cause  and  effect  seems  to  guarantee  this. 
And  is  it  not  also  guarantee  of  a  universal 
sympathy,  since  the  prime  essential  of  this  law 
is  that  all  things  are  linked  up  in  one  continuous 
chain  ? 

My  own  experience  among  the  flowers  biases 
me  in  favour  of  this  sympathetic  rule  and  causes 
me  to  believe  there  is  some  means  by  which  our 
several  beings  can  communicate.  On  many  occa- 
sions I  have  been  led,  with  seeming  intention, 
to  some  rare  white  form  that  I  was  wishing  to 
find.  Apparent  purposelessness  and  lack  of  deci- 
sion have  filled  my  mind,  and  yet,  time  after  time, 
have  I  taken  the  very  path,  or  have  scrambled 
up  the  precise  trackless  slope  which  has  brought 
me  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  rarity  I  have  been 


The  AUTUMN  CROCUS  in  the  fi^ds  near  the 
village  of  Trient,  with  the  Ai^ille  du  Tour 
in  the  background,  Septeml-''- 


^i 


and  iack  ot 


^"%>- 


■■^i^^'^ 
•^^m^ 


'm 


i^'^i 


i'*v>. 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR  89 

seeking.  On  other  occasions  1  have  been  arrested 
in  my  walk  and  in  the  midst  of  quite  other 
thoughts  of  my  own  or  of  some  conversation  with 
a  companion  by  an  impelling  impression  that  a 
floral  rarity  was  in  my  immediate  neighbourhood. 
I  have  noticed,  too,  that  this  seeming  guidance 
has  invariably  happened  in  connection  with  white 
flowers — the  white  form  of  Rhododendron  ferrugi- 
neuiii,  for  instance,  or  of  Gentiaria  excisa,  or  of 
Soldanella  alpina,  or  of  Viola  calcarata,  or  of 
Aster  alpinus.  It  may  sound  preposterously  mys- 
tical, but  I  do  really  suspect  that  I  have  found 
these  uncommon  or  rare  flowers — perhaps  there 
was  only  one  specimen  within  the  district  for 
miles  round — by  something  in  their  nature  being 
in  tune  with  something  in  mine.  I  do  not 
imagine  success  would  attend  upon  conscious  effort, 
my  own  experience  being  that  the  promptings 
have  come  without  any  striving  on  my  part.  1 
have  had  most  mixed  and  unconvincing  results 
and  many  total  failures  when  experiment  has  been 
conducted  upon  such  lines  as  one  might  follow  with 
a  water-finder.  I  am  aware  that  however  much 
in  earnest  one  may  be  in  speaking  of  this  class  of 
phenomena,  it  is  difficult  to  appear  reasonable ; 
for  the  matter  is  so  wrapped  in  haze.     I  can  only 


90    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

repeat  that  the  thing  has  happened  to  me  when 
I  have  been  least  expecting  it 

I  remember  one  case  in  particular,  when  I  was 
rambHng  with  a  friend  upon  the  rapid  slopes  of 
Dent  de  Bonnavaux,  near  Champery.  I  was 
longing  to  find  the  white  form  of  Gentiana 
asclepiadea,  the  Willow  Gentian,  about  which  I 
had  been  reading.  We  had  arrived  where  this 
Gentian  was  growing  in  profusion  in  a  semi-shade 
afforded  by  giant  cliffs,  and  had  proceeded  nearly 
to  the  foot  of  the  Pas  d'Encel,  when,  feeling 
suddenly  persuaded  that  the  plant  I  wanted  was 
near  by,  I  called  a  halt.  My  friend  said,  "  Oh, 
let's  get  on ;  there's  nothing  here ! "  But  1 
begged  for  indulgence.  "  I  feel,"  said  I,  "  that 
the  white  form  of  the  blue  Gentian  is  growing 
hereabouts,  and  I'm  going  to  hunt  it  up."  For 
some  time  I  scrambled  about  without  the  required 
result,  and  I  was  beginning  to  suspect  that  I  was 
being  prompted  more  by  a  fussy  imagination  than 
an  intuitive  sympathy ;  and  yet  I  felt  unable  to 
abandon  the  search,  and  determined  not  to  do 
so  until  I  had  gone  all  over  the  ground  twice. 
And  then,  at  last — Eureka!  there  amongst  the 
grasses  behind  a  big  boulder  were  two  lovely 
sprays  of  purest  white !     Now,  it  was  not  as  if 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR  91 

this  were  the  first  time  that  I  had  been  amongst  this 
Gentian  ;  many  times  before,  and  in  many  districts, 
had  I  passed  through  quantities  of  it ;  but  never 
had  1  seen  any  variation  except  in  the  depth 
and  brightness  of  the  blue,  and  never  before  had 
I  experienced  the  sensation  of  the  near  presence 
of  its  white  form.  Nor  can  1  recall  any  occasion 
when  this  sensation  has  played  me  false.  Over  and 
over  again  have  I  felt  it,  and  with  whatever  plant 
it  has  been  associated  it  has  invariably  proved 
truthfully  prophetic.  Will  coincidence  or  luck 
satisfactorily  account  for  this  ?  I  am  unable  to 
think  so,  though  I  confess  I  must  exclaim  as 
Faust  does  : 

"  I^o  !   here  I  sit  no  wiser  than  before"! 

But  now  that  we  are  thus  far,  let  us  grope  a 
little  further  within  the  dim-lit  domain  of  sub- 
consciousness ;  I  would  fain  touch  upon  a  matter 
closely  allied  to  the  foregoing — that  of  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  colour  of  flowers,  and  the  part  played 
by  colour  in  the  sympathy  existing  between  the 
flowers  and  ourselves.  Let  us  first  of  all  speculate 
briefly  upon  the  significance  of  floral  colouring. 
Speaking  vaguely — and  who  can  speak  with  any 
very  great  distinctness  ? — colour  is  one  of  many 


92     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

manifestations  of  one  and  the  same  fundamental 
condition.  Sound  is  another  ;  odour  another.  Our 
five  senses,  in  fact,  appear  to  deal  with  the  self- 
same set  of  fundamental  truths  and  to  translate 
them  differently :  possibly  upon  the  principle  that 
variety  is  charming  and  is  much  more  likely  to 
arouse  our  complete  inquisitiveness,  ending  ulti- 
mately in  our  thorough  appreciation,  than  would 
these  vital  truths  if  brought  to  our  notice  in  just 
a  single  form.  There  are  people  to  whom  odours 
represent  colours ;  there  are  others  to  whom 
Wagnerian  music  is  largely  coloured  by  scarlet 
and  all  other  reds,  and  to  whom  the  note  of  the 
blackbird  is  magenta  and  purple,  and  that  of  the 
greenfinch  yellow.  There  is,  too,  a  case  recorded 
by  the  late  Professor  Lombroso,  where  a  girl 
could  see  things  with  the  tip  of  her  nose ;  JMiss 
Helen  Keller,  blind,  deaf,  and  dumb,  can  feel 
if  a  person  is  dark  or  fair;  and  it  is  said  that 
recently  in  Germany  there  Avas  a  man  who,  having 
undergone  an  operation  upon  his  head,  was,  after 
recovery,  obliged  to  seek  the  peace  and  comfort 
of  a  dark  cellar  on  fine  days,  because  he  could 
hear  the  sun  shining.  Without  staking  the  sound- 
ness of  my  argument  upon  this  last  quotation,  there 
would  seem  enough  evidence  in  the  world  to  assure 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR  93 

us  that  our  senses  deal  with  one  and  the  same 
set  of  realities,  and  that  colour,  sound,  and  odour 
have  birth  in  a  self-same  cause.  What,  then,  are 
these  realities  ;  what,  then,  is  this  cause  in  relation 
with  ourselves  and  the  flowers ;  and  what  part 
does  colour  play  therein  ? 

Of  course,  I  am  supposing  that  colour  is  really 
in  the  flowers  and  not  in  us  or  in  the  bee,  as 
was  suggested  a  few  years  ago  by  an  American 
savant.  I  am  unable  to  think  that  either  myself 
or  a  bee  can  determine  the  white  form  of  some 
blue  Gentian,  some  rose-pink  Ononis  (Rest-Harrow), 
or  some  yellow  Primrose.  If  colour  is  not  in  the 
flower,  then  neither  is  it  in  a  lady's  dress,  nor  in 
a  nation's  flag,  nor  in  a  picture.  What  reason 
should  the  world  and  his  wife  have  for  unanimously 
declaring  a  dress  to  be  brown  and  purple  if,  in 
reality,  it  is  no  colour  at  all — if,  that  is  to  say, 
it  is  black,  or  the  highest  refinement  of  black, 
which  is  white  ?  How  comes  it  that  a  whole 
nation  with  one  accord  looks  upon  its  flag  as  a 
combination  of  red,  white,  and  blue  when,  in 
reality,  it  is  simply  a  design  in  black  and  white  ? 
What  are  we  doing  by  painting  our  hives  a 
variety  of  bright  colours  in  order  to  lead  the  bees 
safely  home,  if  paint   is  no  colour  and  bees  can 


94     FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

colour  the  hives  as  they  will  ?  It  is  beyond  me ; 
I  imagine  it  is  beyond  my  readers  ;  and  I  suspect 
that  if  the  truth  were  known  it  was  even  beyond 
the  American  savant  in  his  less  imaginative 
moments.  Maybe  things  are  not  what  they 
seem,  but  can  this  be  possible  to  the  extent 
imphed  by  our  Western  cousin  ?  I  know,  of 
course,  that  we  do  largely  befool  ourselves ;  I 
know  that  in  part  measure  we  are  "All  valiant 
dust  that  builds  on  dust "  ;  but  I  cannot  beheve 
we  befool  ourselves  to  the  extent  of  painting 
pictures  every  imaginable  tint  when,  really  and 
truly,  all  this  colour  is  in  ourselves.  I,  personally, 
am  old-fashioned  enough  to  think  that  when  I 
squeeze  gamboge  out  upon  my  palette  I  un- 
doubtedly have  there  a  yellow,  not  a  colourless 
pigment.  And  I  imagine  that  a  bee  thinks  the 
same  when  he  flies,  as  frequently  he  will,  head- 
foremost into  it,  believing  it  to  be  a  buttercup 
or  a  marigold. 

Yes,  I  am  presuming  that  we  human  beings, 
endowed  though  we  are  with  abundant  powers  of 
which  we  are  greatly  unconscious,  have  little 
enough  to  do  with  a  flower's  being  mauve  or 
orange ;  and  it  is  upon  this  possibly  antiquated 
and  false  understanding  that  I  ask  myself.  What 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR    95 

tale  has  the  colour  of  flowers  to  tell  us  ?  In  the 
first  place,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  am  content  to 
see  white  appearing  solely  between  yellow  and 
pink  in  Dr.  Percy  Groom's  scale  of  floral  colour  ; 
the  scale  does  not  look  quite  true,  running  in  the 
following  order :  yellow,  white,  pink,  red,  crimson, 
violet,  blue.  I  should  be  more  content  if  the  order 
ran  like  this:  white,  blue,  green,  yellow,  orange, 
red,  violet,  blue,  white ;  for  scales  such  as  these,  if 
continued,  form  a  circle,  a  complete  and  continuous 
whole.  They  cannot  rightly  be  cut  up  into  abrupt 
sections  of  straight  lines  if  they  are  to  tell  the 
whole  truth.  The  green  flowers  appear  to  stand 
as  proof  of  this,  for  they  draw  their  tint  from  both 
extremities  of  the  scale — from  blue,  the  highest  of 
primal  colours,  and  from  yellow,  the  lowest ;  they 
link  up  the  extremities  and  complete  the  circle  ; 
they  have  no  definite  qualities,  but  are  at  once  high 
and  lowly. 

If  we  start  with  the  lowliest  of  flowers  of 
clean-cut  individuality,  it  must  be  with  the  yellow 
ones ;  and  yellow  stands  for  the  dawn  of  definite 
life.  After  that,  for  flowers  of  distinct  position, 
we  must  go  to  the  red  ones,  those  of  orange  tints 
being  intermediary  ;  and  with  red  we  reach  the 
fulfilment  of  animal  or  worldly  vigour.     From  this 


96    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

point  onwards,  through  magenta,  hlac,  mauve, 
violet,  purple,  refinement  is  increasingly  marked 
until  blue  is  reached.  Then  blue,  starting  darkly, 
advances  to  "  Cambridge "  tints,  and  so  into 
v^hite. 

Now  white  is  the  "  colour  "  of  which  we  know 
the  least — and  talk  the  most.  Really,  it  indicates 
nothing— that  which  is  as  "  a  bunghole  without  a 
barrel  round  it" — and  of  this,  naturally,  we  can  have 
but  a  very  inaccurate  appreciation.  We  speak 
glibly  about  white,  and  we  soar  with  it  to  giddy, 
dreamy  heights,  but  we  speak  and  mostly  dream  of 
colour  not  of  white.     For — 

"  liife,  like  a  dome  of  many-coloured  glass, 
Stains  the  white  radiance  of  eternity." 

We  talk  of  snow  as  if  it  were  of  no  colour  ;  but  we 
are  able  to  talk  about  it  only  because  it  is  so 
colour-full.  We  talk  arrogantly  of  ourselves  as 
"  white  people,"  and  we  are  able  to  do  so  because 
we  are  not  white  people,  but  people  with  a  rude 
amount  of  red  in  us — "  animals  with  red  cheeks," 
as  Nietzsche  calls  us ;  indeed,  it  is  possible  that  the 
negro  has  more  right  to  call  himself  a  white  man, 
for  he  is  nearer  to  black  than  we  are  to  white,  and, 
according   to   the  well-known  formula,  "  Black  is 


1.      \\  '■: 

^^    it  ^r. 

ANEMONE  SULPHUREA  and  GENTIAN  A 
EXCISA,  painted  directly  in  the  fields 
at    the    end  of  May. 


animals  with 


learer  t( 


^" 


ST 


m*k 


«>w«r  i 


^ 


M 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR    97 

white,  white  is  black,  and  black  is  no  colour  at 
all." 

But  what  part  does  white  play  amongst  the 
flowers?  To  begin  with,  I  believe  we  have  no 
right  to  restrict  it  to  one  particular  place — between 
yellow  and  red.  It  would  seem  to  have  no  precise 
position  in  the  scale,  for  it  is  found  appearing  here, 
there,  and  everywhere  along  the  line.  It  occurs 
amongst  all  colours,  but  if  it  has  one  more 
permanent  place  than  another,  that  place  is  outside 
the  line  of  colour  altogether ;  and  white,  as  a 
permanency,  is  an  extreme.  The  appearance  of  a 
white  form  is  often  hailed  as  a  case  of  anaemia  in 
the  coloured  type  ;  and  no  doubt  this  is  so  fre- 
quently, though  it  cannot  be  so  always.  Where 
a  white  form  is  the  issue  of  a  blue  type-flower, 
such  as  a  Gentian  or  a  Campanula,  it  is  most 
probable  that  it  is  a  case  of  natural  evolution, 
and  that  such  a  white  plant  is  no  more  anaemic 
than  is  anything  Avhich  arrives  naturally,  pro- 
gressively, upon  the  higher  plane  of  being.  AVe  of 
a  lower  plane  are  not  a  little  apt  to  regard  as 
weaklings  things  which  emerge  upon  the  higher 
plane.  Certainly  a  white  flower  is  not  necessarily 
"  too  good  to  live."  If  it  be  issue  of  a  blue  type- 
flower,  it  is  more  likely  than  not  to  be  in  every 


98    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

way  well  bred.  Where,  however,  it  is  issue  of  a 
yellow  or  a  red  type-flower,  then  I  think  we  are 
justified  in  suspecting  anaemia,  for  yellow  or  red 
must  pass  through  blue  before  it  can  healthily 
and  with  all  warrant  emerge  as  white.  There  are 
no  leaps  in  progressive  evolution  ;  soundness  is 
sequence. 

Now  in  no  instance,  I  think,  have  I  been  in- 
fluenced by  the  unknown  presence  of  yellow  or  of 
red  as  I  have  by  that  of  white  and  sometimes 
of  blue  flowers.  Why  should  this  be :  why 
should  the  influence  of  white  be  more  remarkable 
than  that  of  yellow?  Is  it  not  probable  that  in 
special  cases  the  human  organism  is  in  pro- 
nouncedly sympathetic  accord  with  the  organism 
of  flowers,  in  some  such  way  as  there  is  sympa- 
thetic attunement  between  transmitter  and  receiver 
in  wireless  telegraphy  ?  Is  it  not  possible  that 
some  natures  are  attuned  to  blue  and  white 
flowers,  and  will  ignore  yellow  or  red  ones,  while 
other  natures  are  in  accord  with  yellow  or  red 
flowers  and  are  unresponsive  to  blue  and  white 
ones?  I  know  of  a  judge  at  local  flower  shows 
who  invariably,  and  without  much  demur,  gave 
first  prize  to  the  table  decoration  containing 
scarlet ;    and   if    such   a   decoration    was    mainly 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR  99 

composed  of  the  Oriental  Poppy  it  secured  the 
top  award  without  a  moment's  hesitation.  Is  it 
not  possible  that  this  judge  was  in  sympathetic 
attune  with  scarlet ;  is  it  not  possible  that,  were 
he  to  have  been  bhndfolded,  and  set  down  in 
a  field  of  blue  Cornflowers  with  one  red  Poppy 
hidden  away  amongst  them,  he  would  at  once 
have  been  persuaded  of  the  Poppy's  presence? 

Thus  we  end  upon  a  question  mark.  But  let  us 
not  feel  abashed.  "  A  man  is  wise,"  says  Oliver 
Goldsmith,  "while  he  continues  in  pursuit  of 
wisdom,  but  when  he  once  fancies  that  he  has 
found  the  object  of  his  inquiry  he  then  becomes 
a  fool."  Let  us  find  comfort  in  this  dictum,  and 
confess  that  we  have  discovered  scarcely  a  trace  of 
that  for  which  we  Ivdve  been  inquiring.  Cardinal 
Newman  once  observed  that  men  know  less  of 
animals  than  they  do  of  angels,  and  I  think  we  may 
safely  put  the  flowers  by  the  side  of  the  animals — 
especially  when  our  knowledge  deals,  as  it  has  here 
been  dealing,  with  that  mysterious  subconscious- 
ness which  is  tlie  domain  of  angels.  Familiarity  is 
the  much-travelled  road  to  ignorance.  We  often 
deny  to  familiar  things  qualities  that  we  stoutly 
insist  belong  to  things  of  which  we  know  really  no- 
thing.    The  flowers  are  too  obvious,  too  near  to 


100  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

us  to  share  the  intimacy  in  which  we  live  with 
things  hidden  and  secret.  Even  we  ourselves 
suffer  in  this  manner,  and  we  deny  to  ourselves 
qualities  we  "  see  "  and  "  know  "  in  what  we  cannot 
see  and  do  not  know.  What  a  very  curious  blend  of 
contradictions  we  are  !  In  one  and  the  same  breath 
we  will  unduly  belaud  and  unduly  belittle  our- 
selves ;  but  we  are  no  more  the  restricted  creatures 
of  our  fancy  than  we  are  the  centre  and  hub  of  the 
universe.  Although,  manifestly  short-sighted,  we 
stumble  about  in  most  awkward  fashion,  still  we 
are  dehcately  receptive  of  subtle,  moving  influ- 
ences. We  are  instruments  of  far-reaching  powers, 
but  we  look  upon  ourselves  as  freer  agents  than 
the  case  warrants.  We  imagine  we  go  here  and 
go  there  entirely  of  our  own  voHtion,  yet  if  we 
were  really  such  lonely  automatons  as  this  we 
should  be  immeasurably  more  stupid  than  we  are. 

It  must  not  surprise  us,  then,  if  Science  some 
day  convinces  us  that  both  in  thought  and  in 
action  we  are  moved  by  many  things  with  which  we 
now  say  we  have  no  connection,  and  that  amongst 
these  things  will  be  found  the  flowers  ;  it  must 
not  astonish  us  if  such  a  phrase  as  "  The  Call  of 
the  Wild  "  is  possessed  of  an  intrinsic  meaning,  the 
fulness  and  scope  of  which  we  now  consider  it  an 


ON  FLORAL  ATTRACTIVENESS  AND  COLOUR  101 

eccentric  folly  to  admit.  There  is  a  wondrous 
education  in  store  for  us.  We  are,  actually,  in 
our  right  place,  but  we  know  little  of  how  or 
why.  When  some  day  our  eyes  are  opened  more 
widely  to  the  forces  that  direct  our  lives,  we  shall  be 
humbler  than  at  present.  But  we  shall  be  happier. 
And  I  venture  to  predict  that  few  things  will  help 
more  materially  towards  this  greater  happiness  than 
will  a  real  and  knowing  intimacy  with  the  flowers. 


CHAPTER    Vlll 


THE    RHODODENDRON 


"  Wonderful,  hidden  things  wait  near,  I  know. 
Perchance  fulfilment  of  our  noblest  aim. 
Or  marvels  that  would  set  the  heart  aflame. 
Which  an  obscure  and  mystic  sense  might  show — 
Snatching  us — in  a  moment — to  the  glow 
Beyond  yon  filmy  barrier  without  name 
That  no  eye  pierceth  !  " 

Fanny  Elizabj^ih  Sidebottom,  A  Spiritual  Sense. 

According  to  authority,  there  are  about  186 
species  of  Rhododendron  in  the  world.  The  great- 
est number  of  varieties  inhabit  India  and  China, 
and  they  are  important  plants  in  the  Caucasus, 
where  often — as  with  Rhododendron  ponticum — 
they  cover  the  entire  side  of  a  mountain.  In 
Switzerland  there  are  but  two  varieties,  R.  ferrugi- 
neum  and  R.  hirsutum,  and  they  are  to  the  Swiss 
Alps  what  the  Heather  is  to  the  Scottish  moun- 
tains (with,  however,  this  difference — the  Alps 
have   also   the    Heather).     They  clothe  the  open 

102 


THE   RHODODENDRON  103 

mountain-side  with  a  deep  evergreen  growth,  in- 
vading the  hchen-scored  rocks  and  even  the  pine- 
forests,  and  robing  themselves,  from  mid-June  to 
mid-July,  in  such  rosy-red  attire  as  fascinates 
even  the  accustomed  peasant,  causing  him  almost 
as  much  delight  as  they  cause  the  stranger. 
Indeed,  their  flowering  is  a  masterpiece  of  Nature's 
art,  and  few  things  are  more  fitting  the  sun's 
ascendency  and  the  advent  of  cowbells  upon  the 
pastures.  Wherever  on  the  fields  there  is  a  rock, 
there  shines  the  rosy  shrub  against  the  grey  mass, 
and  the  steep  slopes  glint  and  glow  as  they  will 
do  in  the  autumn  when  the  Bilberry  and  other 
groundlings  catch  afire.  I  have  met  visitors  in 
disappointment  at  the  smallness  of  the  blossoms, 
and  inquiring  where  the  large-flowered  forms  of 
our  gardens  might  be  found.  Certainly,  these 
plants  are  not  those  of  the  Himalaya,  but  I 
warrant  they  can  boast  a  glory  all  their  own — 
one  inspired  by  its  particular  circumstance  and 
surroundings,  and  vying  in  that  respect  with  the 
glory  of  the  kinsfolk  of  India  or  of  the  Azalea 
in  Afghanistan.  Abundance  rather  than  size  is 
the  keynote  of  this  present  splendour;  and  the 
abundance  is  amazing,  giving  us  a  mass  of  colour 
which  larger  individual  flowers  could  scarcely  rival. 


104   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPLNE  SWITZERLAND 

Wet  or  fine  the  glow  abides,  but  in  fine  weather 
its  rich  brilliance  is  certainly  of  summer's  best  and 
goes  far  to  reconcile  us  to  the  lost  glories  of  the 
Vernal  Gentian.  There  can  be  few  more  satisfy- 
ing recollections  of  early  summer  days  than  when, 
waist-deep  amid  the  Rhododendrons  overgrowing 
some  ancient  rock-fall,  one  gazed  across  a  rosy 
expanse,  sparingly  broken  by  grey  boulder  and 
blasted  pine  and  falling  away  towards  the  snout 
of  some  sea-green  glacier  backed  by  snow-draped 
crags  and  aiguilles,  with,  in  the  foreground,  on 
occasional  turfy  intervals,  groups  of  orange  Arnica 
and  of  Gymnadenia  albida,  the  Small  Butterfly 
Orchis,  close  consort  of  the  Rhododendron,  whilst 
the  Swallow-tail  and  Alpine  Clouded- Yellow  butter- 
flies flirted  with  the  blossoms  and  chased  each 
other  in  the  thin,  clear  air  and  joy-inspiring  sun- 
light. "  The  Alpine  Rhododendron  .  .  .  once 
gave  me,"  Mr.  George  Yeld  tells  us  in  his  chapter 
contributed  to  the  Rev.  W.  A.  B.  Coohdge's  "  The 
Alps  in  Nature  and  in  History,"  "  one  of  the  most 
effective  sights  in  the  flower-world  that  1  can 
recall.  I  came  upon  it  in  a  late  season — acres  of 
Rhododendron  ferrugineum,  in  a  forest  where  the 
trees  grew  at  some  distance  apart.  The  brightness 
of  the  colour — a  rich  red — the  extent  of  the  flower 


l^oe 

oconcile  us  t' 

Vei' 

There  can  i 

Jrir.     . 

■'  «"-iv-  sTimiiii.i  . 

^odendrc: 

ized  across 

grey  bould 
towards  tht 
backed  by  snow-drapec 

iid,  on 

PRIMULA  FARINOSA,  GENTIAN  A  VERNAi'^y.y^rr, 
Micheli's     Daisy,     BARTSIA      ALPINA," 
and    of    I  POL YG ALA     ALPINA,     and     the     two 
Pinguiculas  or  Battenvorts,  painted  directly 
in  the  fields  at  the  end  of  May. 


ui  lIl^c<Jiv,       one  of  the  mo^ 


ooiidge  s  •'  Th' 

n   the    flower-world   thftt   %  c 
r'c.'ill.     1  came  li  tte  seasc 


>(dro7i  fc 

\-  at  son, 


ed — the 


THE    RHODODENDRON  105 

show,  the  setting  of  pines,  and  the  background 
of  stately  ramparts  of  rock,  with  an  occasional 
waterfall,  made  the  scene  unique  ;  and  the  memory 
of  it  is  proportionately  vivid."  Scarce  can  such  ex- 
perience need  enlargement  along  the  line  of  pleasure, 
and  surely  no  well-regulated  mind  will  wander  in 
search  of  larger-flowered  varieties  !  Such  scenes 
are  satisfaction  itself — except  that  they  play  upon 
some  secret  human  chord,  awaken  "  an  obscure 
and  mystic  sense  "  and  waft  inquisitive  mentality 

"  to  the  glow 
Beyond  yon  filmy  barrier  without  name 
That  no  eye  pierceth  !  " 

The  Rhododendron  is  commonly  spoken  and 
written  of  as  the  Alpine  Rose;  but  it  is  a 
member  of  the  Heath  family,  and  not  of  that 
family  which  fable  says  was  created  by  Bacchus. 
This  is  a  ready  instance  of  where  popular  nomen- 
clature, without  discipline,  leads  to  confusion ; 
for  there  is  an  Alpine  Rose  (Rosa  alpina),  a  very 
lovely  rich  magenta-coloured  Eglantine  often 
growing  cheek-by-jowl  with  the  pseudo  Alpenrose 
of  the  Germans.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the 
word  "  Rose  "  really  springs — as  in  Monte  Rom 
— from  roisa  or   roesa,  meaning  "  glacier  "  in  the 


106  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

ancient  patois  of  the  valley  of  Aosta,  and  I  have 
several  times  seen  this  more  than  suggested  by- 
authorities  in  etymology.  The  fact  remains,  how- 
ever, that  the  Rhododendron  has  become  a  rose 
and  has  thus  obscured  to  some  extent  the  repute 
and  worth  of  the  real  Alpine  Rose.  In  French, 
the  Rhododendron,  though  it  is  often  known  as 
Rose  des  Alpes,  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  Rue  des 
Alpes  and  Rosage. 

The  Rhododendron  is  the  Swiss  national  flower. 
Nor  am  I  sure  but  that  this  honour  is  not  borne 
almost  entirely  by  R.  ferrugineum.  This  is  far  more 
widespread  than  is  hirsutum,  being  far  less  difficult 
in  its  likes  and  dislikes.  For  example,  notwith- 
standing that  fiirsutuvi  loves  limestone,  it  shuns 
the  Jura  Mountains,  whereas  ferrugineum  is 
common  in  the  Jura,  though  usually  it  is  shy  of 
lime.  And  if  the  honours  really  are  undivided, 
they  seem  to  be  won  by  superior  aptness,  and  the 
laurel-wreath  rests,  I  think,  upon  the  more  appro- 
priate brow.  For,  of  the  two,  ferrugineum  best 
typifies  the  Swiss  national  character — masculine 
sturdiness,  common-sensed  sanity,  void  of  fine 
fastidiousness.  The  whole  habit  of  ferrugineum 
is  more  robust,  more  rigid,  more  resistant.  It 
seeks    small   clemency ;    it   has,   so   to   speak,    its 


THE   RHODODENDRON  107 

teeth  set,  prepared  to  front  the  rudest  buffets 
of  Alpine  circumstance  without  a  prayer  for  pity, 
and  to  come  up  smihng  in  spite  of  all.  Although, 
of  course,  hirsutum  has  its  own  good  way  of  over- 
coming severe  conditions,  it  has  a  greater  delicacy 
of  bearing  and  does  not  impress  one  as  being 
possessed  of  its  cousin's  rugged  nature. 

Eugene  Rambert,  the  Swiss  poet-alpinist,  speaks 
of  the  Rhododendron  as  being  "  la  plante  alpine  j^ar 
excellence,''  and  in  doing  so  he  probably  uses  the 
word  "Alpine"  in  the  same  sense  in  which  we 
ourselves  are  here  using  it,  or  else  perhaps  he 
refers  to  the  plant  as,  for  the  most  part,  it  is 
resident  in  Switzerland.  For  on  the  Italian  face 
of  the  Alps  the  Rhododendron  descends,  as  around 
Lugano,  to  the  plains.  Mr.  Stuart  Thompson, 
who  has  made  a  special  study  of  altitude  in  con- 
nection with  the  mountain  flora,  says  in  his 
*'  Alpine  Plants  of  Europe  "  that  R.  ferrugineum 
"  ascends  to  8,800  feet  in  Valais,  to  at  least 
8,200  feet  in  the  Maritime  Alps,  and  descends 
into  the  plain  in  Tessin  by  Lago  Maggiore  (with 
R.  liirsutuvi),  and  by  Lake  ^Vallenstadt,  and  it  is 
occasionally  found  as  a  glacier  relic  in  turbaries  in 
the  woods  of  the  Swiss  plateau." 

Mr.  Thompson,   by  mentioning  the  fact  of  the 


108  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

remains  of  Rhododendron  being  found  in  peat 
deposits  on  the  plains,  gives  us  a  ghmpse  of  this 
plant  slowly  retreating  up  the  mountains  with  the 
glaciers.  And  yet,  on  the  south  side  of  the  Alps, 
it  is  still  to  be  found  upon  the  plains !  This  is 
one  of  the  mysteries  of  Alpine  plant-life,  and  one 
for  which  I  have  seen  no  satisfactory  theory. 
Gentiana  verna  shows  us,  I  believe,  the  same 
seeming  inconsistency,  descending  to  the  sea-coast 
in  Ireland,  yet  rarely,  if  ever,  found  below  1,300  feet 
in  Switzerland. 

Like  the  English  Dog  Rose — and  this,  perhaps, 
is  its  greatest  likeness  to  a  Rose — the  Rhododen- 
dron develops  galls  (Oak-apples  or  Robin's  Pin- 
cushions, as  they  are  called  in  England)  upon  its 
leaves.  Some  of  these  are  produced  by  insects 
and  some  by  a  fungus  {Exobasidiuvi  rhododcndri), 
the  latter  gall  being  yellow,  and  turning  pink  or 
rose  on  the  sunny  side.  The  leaves  and  flowers 
are  used  in  infusion  for  rheumatism  ;  also  as  an 
ingredient  of  Swiss  tea.  This  shrub,  too,  is  the 
food-plant  of  one  of  the  handsomest  of  Alpine 
butterflies,  Colias  Paloeno,  a  Clouded  -  Yellow  — 
anything  but  clouded,  though  it  lives  where 
clouds  are  born,  for  with  its  clear  citron  wings 
boldly  bordered  with  jet-black  and  rimmed  with 


THE   RHODODENDRON  109 

tender    rose,    it   is   a   bright,    true   child   of   high 
altitudes. 

Nor  should  the  Rhododendron  be  forgotten  as  a 
subject  for  our  gardens.  When  raised  from  layers 
or  from  seed,  it  takes  quite  kindly  to  our  climate. 
Indeed,  the  plants  at  "  Floraire,"  M.  Henry  Corre- 
von's  charming  garden  near  Geneva,  come  from 
England — a  fact  that  will  sound  much  in  line 
with  that  of  living  at  Brighton  and  receiving  one's 
fish  from  London  !  This  anomaly,  in  the  case  of 
the  Rhododendron,  is  due  to  the  great  difficulty  of 
acclimatising  the  plant  to  the  Swiss  plains.  When, 
however,  it  has  once  been  acclimatised  in  England 
it  will  transplant  to  Switzerland  with  the  greatest 
success.  I  cannot  remember  ever  to  have  seen  in 
Switzerland  a  successfully  transplanted  native  plant 
of  Rhododendron,  even  though,  as  is  frequently  the 
case  around  mountain  hotels,  it  has  been  a  question 
of  moving  it  only  some  few  yards  from  where  it  was 
growing  wild.  These  wild  plants  have  a  strong 
objection  to  being  tamed.  But  in  England's  humid 
climate  it  is  quite  easy  to  cultivate,  and  if  fields  are 
to  be  added  to  our  rockworks  the  Rhododendron 
must  have  a  place  in  them — a  place  around  the 
solitary  rocks,  a  place  with  the  Daphne  and  the 
shrubby  Honeysuckles. 


110  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

With  what  fecundity  of  resource  Nature  marshals 
her  forces ;  with  what  amazing  ingenuity  she  passes 
to  her  goal !  As  if  to  show  her  wayward  child 
how  academic  strictness  in  one  straight  line  is  not 
the  road  to  greatest  success,  she  takes  a  thousand 
ways  to  reach  one  and  the  same  end,  causing 
extremes  and  opposites  in  method  to  give  a 
common  high  result.  And  this  she  does  on  every 
hand,  and  in  all  of  her  domains.  In  the  world 
w^'th  which  we  are  now  dealing — the  plant-world — 
s\e  is  particularly  rich  in  ways  and  means.  See 
^  ow,  for  example,  some  flowers  need  the  wind 
to  assist  them  to  propagate  their  kind,  and  note 
the  many  ways  such  flowers  have  of  courting  the 
wind's  assistance ;  see  how  others  need  the  bees 
and  flies  to  busy  themselves  about  them,  and  note 
the  many  ways  such  have  of  attracting  the  atten- 
tions of  bees  and  flies  ;  see  how  some  will  call 
in  a  beetle  to  eat  his  way  to  their  hearts,  whilst 
others  will  just  hob-nob  together,  independent  of 
any  intermediary.  See,  again,  how  some  plants 
bury  their  roots  in  the  earth  for  sustenance,  whilst 
others,  with  like  object,  will  bury  them  in  the  air  ; 
see,  too,  how  some  will  climb  by  the  help  of  their 
thorns,  whilst  others  will  do  so  by  the  aid  of 
tendrils,  or  of  rootlets,  or  of  adhering  fingers.     An 


THE   RHODODENDRON  111 

admirably  efficient  way  of  achieving  a  purpose 
does  not  preclude  the  possibility  of  there  being 
a  score  or  more  other  and  equally  eflicient  ways  of 
achieving  the  same  purpose.  One  species  of 
Orange-tree  may  carry  its  seed  in  the  core  of  its 
fruit,  whilst  another  may  carry  it  in  a  special 
exterior  annexe  ;  or  one  species  of  INIangrove-tree 
may  breathe  by  means  of  its  leaves,  whilst  another 
may  do  so  by  means  of  tube-like  organs  thrown 
up  through  the  soft  mud. 

It  seems  strange  we  should  be  so  strictly  narrow 
in  our  outlook,  surrounded  as  we  are  by  so  much 
clearly  demonstrated  resourcefulness ;  it  seems 
strange  that  all  day  long  our  dogmatic  finger 
should  point  here,  then  there,  and  the  presump- 
tuous cry  go  up,  "  This  is  the  only  right  and 
proper  way  ! "  It  seems  strange :  for  it  is  thus 
a  person  is  a  savage  in  our  eyes  if,  instead  of 
wearing  ornaments  in  his  ears,  he  wears  them  in 
his  nose  and  lips.  To  be  sure,  we  are  improving 
in  this  respect,  for  at  one  time  we  readily  burnt 
people  who  had  another  way  of  doing  things. 
But  there  is  still  vast  room  for  progress.  And, 
surely,  it  is  no  fond  trick  of  the  imagination  to 
believe  that  an  appreciable  amount  of  this  room 
will  gradually  be  appropriated  to  progress  made 


112  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

through  Nature  Study.  For  Nature  is  too  far- 
sighted  to  be  dogmatic,  too  capable  to  be 
academic ;  she  leaves  an  illimitable  margin  for 
what  is  right,  incidentally  giving  a  complete  ex- 
position of  the  truth  of  our  much  employed,  but 
much  neglected  adage,  "  All  roads  lead  to  Rome." 
Now,  in  these  two  Swiss  Rhododendrons  there 
is  excellent  occasion  for  noting  two  very  different 
means  of  offering  highly  effective  resistance  to 
a  common  foe.  The  foe  is  drought — the  drought 
of  the  hot,  ungenerous,  porous  moraine,  and  of 
the  rapid,  rocky,  sun-baked,  wind-swept  slope. 
Mountain  circumstance,  such  as  is  affected  for  the 
most  part  by  these  Rhododendrons,  is  the  out- 
come of  comparatively  recent  disturbance  ;  soil  is 
in  the  forming,  and  what  there  is  of  it  but  thinly 
coats  a  tumbled  bed  of  crevassed  rocks  and 
boulders.  Casual  observation  may  lead  visitors 
to  suppose  the  Swiss  Alpine  climate  to  be  by 
no  means  devoid  of  moisture  and  to  be  liable 
at  all  seasons  to  its  f?ir  share  of  damp,  all- 
enveloping  cloud  and  fog,  and  to  storms  of  snow 
and  rain.  And  casual  observation  will  be  right. 
But  no  section  of  the  globe's  face  is  more 
thoroughly  and  more  promptly  drained  than  that 
of  the  Alps,  and  a   "  deluge "  of  rain  is  like   so 


GENTIAN  A    VERNA,  the  type-plant,  and  some 
of  its  forms. 


in  the  fc 


and   to    be   iial 
-    Jiare  of   damTi    ^ 
and  to  storms  o 
usual  o 
,...    of     the 
d  more  pro 


THE   RHODODENDRON  113 

much  water  on  a  duck's  back.  Hence,  an  incom- 
parable system  of  drainage  is  one  of  the  prime 
disabilities  against  which  Alpine  vegetation  has 
to  contend.  And  the  Rhododendrons  meet  this 
disability  in  two  wa.ys—fer7'ugineum  with  hard 
leaves,  varnished  above,  and  felted  and  resinous 
beneath  ;  hirsutum  with  softer,  pliant  leaves  fringed 
by  hairs.  Thus  do  both  fence  ably  the  evil  of  too 
rapid  evaporation  ;  thus  do  both,  by  their  diverse 
methods,  give  to  the  student 

"  The  subtle  hintiiigs  of  a  perfect  whole." 


CHAPTER     IX 

THE    JULY    FIELDS 

"  Tliroiigh  rich  green  solitudes^ 
And  wildly  hanging  woods 
With  blossoms  and  with  bell, 
In  rich  redundant  swell, 

And  the  pride 
Of  the  mountain  daisy  there. 
And  the  forest  everywhere. 
With  the  dress  and  with  the  air 
Of  a  bride." 

Duncan  Ban  MacIntyre. 

Amid  the  brilliant  floral  gathering  which  crowds 
into  the  arena  of  the  Alps  upon  the  blazoned  entry 
of  July,  one  marks  no  sign  of  the  fair  and  frail 
St.  Bruno's  Lily.  Nor  is  this  as  it  should  not  be. 
Dainty  to  the  point  of  extreme  delicacy,  this 
flower  of  Paradise  is  justly  of  a  season  more 
restrained,  and  one  should  not  heap  regrets  upon 
its  absence  from  so  flamboyant  a  concourse  as  this 
present.  The  rich-blue  Bell  Gentian  is  likewise 
absent  from  the  gay  and  jostling  crowd,  having  at 


THE  JULY   FIELDS  115 

last  vanished  from  the  shadier  nooks  where,  in 
fond  persistency,  it  has  been  continuing  the  cult 
of  spring.  But  these  two  precious  field-flowers 
form,  possibly,  the  sum  of  June's  distinguished 
absentees. 

"  Why  fret  about  them  if  to-day  be  sweet !  " 

And,  surely,  to-day  is  as  sweet  as  ever  yesterday 
was  !  The  glory  of  the  Bistort  is  not  yet  on  the 
wane,  and  to  it  the  tall  Buttercup  has  wedded  its 
lustre,  and  Ranuncuhts  aconitifolius,  the  Fair  Maid 
of  France  ;  consequently,  the  moister  meadows  are 
a  knee-deep  wealth  of  pink,  yellow,  and  white. 
On  the  drier  fields,  too,  the  rich  blue  and  mauve 
expanses  of  Salvia  and  Geranium  are  now  re- 
inforced by  the  crowded  blue  bells  of  Campanula 
rhomboidaUs,  and  hosts  of  the  mauve-blossomed 
Scabious ;  while  upon  the  slopes  the  now  declin- 
ing Biscutella  and  Strawberry-flowered  Potentilla 
have  for  new  companions  Hieracium  alpinmii, 
Hypochoeris  jfiaculata,  Ci^epis  aurea.  Campanula 
barbata,  and  C.  Scheuchzeri,  the  tall  lemon-yellow 
Hypochoeiis  uniflora,  and  the  lilac  Gentiana  cam- 
pestris.  The  tall  blue  and  tall  white  Phyteuma 
betoiiicoefolium,  and  the  blue,  round-headed  P. 
orbicularc  are  everywhere,  and  have  been  joined 


116   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

by  the  tall  blue  P.  Micheli  and  the  little  blue 
P.  hemisphcEiicum  of  onion-like  leaves.  The 
Orchids,  also  everywhere,  are  still  in  full  beauty, 
their  numbers  having  been  swelled  by  the  arrival 
of  Gymnadenia  albida.  The  stately  Veratrum 
album  is  in  flower,  companioning  the  equally 
stately  Yellow  Gentian,  to  which,  in  habit  and 
foliage,  though  not  in  blossom,  it  bears  a  strong 
resemblance.  The  Arnica,  also,  is  coming  into 
bloom :  the  tall,  red-brown  Martagon  Lily  is  fast 
filling  out  its  buds ;  the  Yellow  Rattle  and 
Anthyllis  are  ubiquitous ;  the  graceful  Thesium, 
with  sprays  of  olive-coloured  stems  and  leaves  and 
tiny  white  stars  (and  ugly  English  name  of 
Bastard  Toad-flax),  is  looking  its  daintiest ;  and 
hosts  of  Ox-eyed  Marguerites  and  pink  Umbelli- 
feras  top  the  meadows  far  and  wide.  On  the  rough 
banks  and  edges  of  the  fields,  or  on  the  rocks  that 
so  often  crop  up  in  these  pastures,  Saponaria 
ocymoideSy  Helianthemum  cdpestre,  Calamintha 
alpina,  Veronica  saxatilis,  and  Silene  rwpestris 
add  respectively  their  bright  pink,  orange-yellow, 
mauve,  blue,  and  white  abundance  to  the  radiance 
of  the  field-flowers  proper.  In  "  the  grassy  hollow 
that  holds  the  bubbling  well-spring,"  Myosotis 
palustris  is   opening   its   myriad   blue   eyes ;    the 


THE   JULY   FIELDS  117 

Bartsia  lingers  by  "  the  flower-lit  stream  "  and  is 
joined  by  the  tiny  bright  blue  Gentiana  nivalis, 
here  and  there  showing  its  rarer  white  form ; 
whilst  up  upon  the  mountain-sides,  backing  and 
dominating  the  whole  of  this  crowded,  gay  array, 
the  Rhododendron  is  fast  putting  forth  its  red, 
amazing  fulness. 

If  June  be  reckoned  as  a  millionaire,  then  surely 
July  must  also,  and  with  the  additional  prefix 
"  multi  "  !  "  It  is  with  flowers  as  with  men,"  says 
Major  Reginald  Rankin  in  "  The  Royal  Ordering 
of  Gardens,"  and  "  Providence  is  on  the  side  of 
big  battalions."  And,  of  a  truth,  this  is  so  in 
these  fields ;  bigger  battalions  it  would  indeed  be 
hard  to  find.  Is  there  not  here  some  striking 
suggestion  of  an  element  in  ultimate  beauty — that 
of  an  harmonious  brotherhood  ?  One  certainly 
seems  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  that  economic  state 
where  individuality  is  general  rather  than  par- 
ticular ;  where  personality  is  absorbed  by  the 
mass,  and  beauty  is  conspicuous  only  in  the  whole ; 
where,  so  to  speak,  the  red  neckties  of  leadership 
do  not  flare  out  in  designed  and  conscious  iso- 
lation. Among  themselves  plants  have  their  likes 
and  dislikes.  It  is  well  known  that,  for  example, 
certain  flowers  are  only  found  in  the  company  of 


118   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Corn,  and  it  is  said  that  in  the  kitchen-garden  the 
Radish  simply  detests  the  Thyme.  But  here,  on 
these  meadows,  all  trace  of  discord  seems  lost  in 
one  great  accord,  and  the  plants,  both  great  and 
small,  blue-blooded  and  plebeian, 

"  A  social  conimeix'e  hold,  and  firm  support 
The  full  adjusted  harmony  of  things." 

And  what  pageantry  it  all  is  ;  what  consummate 
pageantry  !  "  The  flowers  are  at  their  Bacchanals!" 
The  Old  Mother,  unlike  many  other  parents,  is  not 
outdistanced  by  her  children.  Though  man  be 
loath  to  admit  it,  she  holds  the  lead,  and  sets  him 
both  pace  and  tune.  What  are  his  pageants 
beside  the  pageantry  of  this  his  age-full  parent  ? 
He  summons  up  his  past  for  glory,  and,  rightly 
or  wrongly,  sees  magnificence  only  in  what  he  has 
been ;  but  his  old  mother,  as  here  on  these  fairy 
fields,  seeks  naught  further  than  the  present. 
Were  it  not  well  that  he  read  in  this  the  lesson : 
"  Nature  must  once  more  become  his  home,  as  it 
is  the  home  of  the  animals  and  angels  "  ?  Were 
it  not  well  that  he  should  shift  his  ground  and  thus 
amend  his  outlook  ?  Scarcely  does  it  befit  him  to 
brag  about 

"  Nature's  fair,  fruitless,  aimless  world 
Men  take  and  mould  at  will ! " 


THE  JULY   FIELDS  119 

"  Fruitless,  aimless  world  "  ?  Why,  willy-nilly, 
Nature  moulds  him — even  by  allowing  him  to 
think  he  is  moulding  her. 

Behold  these  meadows  !  Will  he  take  them  and 
mould  them  to  anything  better  than  they  are? 
No,  he  certainly  will  not.  Will  he  give  them  an 
aim  higher  than  they  possess  at  present?  Pos- 
sibly. There  is,  however,  only  one  way  by  which 
he  may  succeed ;  let  him  unbend,  and  let  him 
gather  these  meadows  closer  to  his  heart  and 
understanding :  let  him  transport  what  he  can  of 
them  to  his  parks  and  gardens.  But  let  him  not 
for  one  moment  imagine  that  by  so  doing  he  is 
"  moulding "  them ;  for,  indubitably,  it  is  they 
who  will  be  moulding  him. 

And  for  this  reason :  Alpine  fields  are  such 
superlatively  true  art  that  he  cannot  but  find  in 
them,  as  in  all  true  art,  a  common  ground  of 
interest,  fellowship,  happiness,  advancement ;  "a 
means" — as  Tolstoi  says  of  true  art — "of  union 
among  men,  joining  them  together  in  the  same 
feelings" — feelings  that  must  ameliorate,  must 
refine. 

We  are  now  nearing  the  dread  but  necessary 
moment  when  the  scythe  will  be  laying  low  the 


120  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

flowers ;  but  ere  the  arrival  of  this  careful,  callous 
friend  of  the  cows,  we  have  a  few  more  hours  in 
which  to  cast  another  greedy  look  around.  The 
Bistort  and  Buttercup,  Orchid  and  tall  Rampion, 
have  become,  or  are  fast  becoming,  dingy  and  seed- 
full,  but  there  are  several  handsome  and  interest- 
ing newcomers ;  and  many  of  these  subjects,  such 
as  the  Martagon  Lily  and  Field  Gentian,  which 
at  the  commencement  of  the  month  had  only  a 
bloom  or  two  open  here  and  there,  are  now  at 
perfection.  The  red  Centaurea  unijiora  is  a  vivid 
object  among  the  grasses :  a  "  distinct  advance," 
as  nurserymen  would  say,  upon  C  scabiosa,  our 
common  Hard-heads  or  Knobweed,  blooming  be- 
side it.  The  sturdy  Brown  Gentian  {Gentiana 
purpurea)  and  its  near  relation,  the  cream-coloured 
or  greenish-yellow  G.  punctata,  are  conspicuous 
objects,  and  Hieracium  aurantiacum,  the  fiery, 
orange-red  Hawkweed  or  Grimm  the  Collier, 
burns  as  a  jewel  among  them.  Astrantia  major, 
the  Great  Masterwort,  unique  and  charming — 
more  particularly  when  its  flower-heads  take  on 
their  truly  Alpine  tint  of  rosy  magenta — is  here 
with  its  little  brother,  A.  minor,  pale  and  fragile, 
perhaps  from  its  habit  of  living  in  shadier  places 
than  major.     The   Campanulas   are  glorious,  and 


!  rival  of 

of  the  covVii,   *ve  have  a 
...  .oil  to  cast  another  greedy  :  „. 
Bistort  and  Buttercup,  Orchid  an<i 
have  4.  becoming,  < 


"111,  callbu^ 


1      l.,o,-..1er.r, 


id  Gentian,  whic 
"  th  had  only 

"",   nre  now  i 

^^\  GERANIUM  SYLVATICUM,  POTENTILLA 
object  a:  i^UPESTRIS,  CENTAUREA  MON- 
as    nULSf::  TANA,  the  pink   Bistort,  the  httle  Alpine 

Bistort,  painted  on  the  spot  in  the  fields  at 

the  beginning  of  July. 

.side   it. 


comi 


or    o  • 


ftrantia  majoi , 
•wort,   unique   and    charming — 

jxjoie  paiiKuian)^  when   its  flower-heads  take  on 
their  truly  Alpine  tint  of  rosy  magenta —is  here 
ith  its  little  brother,  A.  minor,  pale  ; 
■  "om  its  ^ 

r.       The 


f 


V*' 


i 


.^« 


i-.fl 


/f 


:*'^ 


>  4 


THE  JULY  FIELDS  121 

the  lilac  pyramidal  heads  of  C.  spicata  are  strik- 
ing "bits  of  colour"  where  the  grass  is  sparser. 
So  also  are  the  lovely  deep-blue,  pea-like  masses 
of  Vicia  onobrjjchioides,  associating  with  Rampion, 
Arnica,  and  JMartagon  or  Turk's-cap  Lily.  Dian- 
thus  superbus  spreads  a  lace-like  mantle  of  pink 
and  white  over  the  shadier  portions  of  the  fields 
by  the  forest's  edge ;  and  D.  sylvestris  is  a  glory 
of  flesh-pink  upon  the  hotter  slopes  by  the  rocks. 
Aconitum  Napellus,  blue  Monkshood  or  Char  de 
Venus,  is  not  hereabouts  as  on  the  higher  pas- 
tures ;  neither  are  the  yellow  and  orange  pea-like 
Orobus  luteus  and  that  curious  Bellflower,  Cam- 
panula thyrsoides,  with  its  stumpy  hollow  stem 
surmounted  by  a  close-set  mass  of  washed-out 
yellow  flowers  ;  nor  is  the  handsome  large-flowered 
yellow  Foxglo\^e  {Digitalis  ambigua)  so  plentiful 
in  the  Jura  Mountains  and  in  other  limestone 
districts.  But  Thalictrum  aquilcgifolium,  most 
seductive  of  the  Meadowrues,  raises  its  soft-lilac 
or  cream-white  plumes — often  beside  the  majestic 
cream-white  plumes  of  Spiraea  Aruncus,  Queen 
of  the  Fields — in  luxuriant  hollows  where  dwell 
bushes  of  Alpine  Eglantine  and  Honeysuckle.  In 
these  rich,  grassy  hollows,  too,  are  noble  plants  of 
the   sticky,   yellow   Salvia  glutinosa,   or  Jupiter's 


122   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Distaff;  the  tall  mauve  Mulgedium  alpinuvi,  the 
Laitue  des  Alpes  or  Alpine  Lettuce  of  the  French  ; 
the  equally  tall  red  Adenostyles  albifro7is ;  and  the 
Lesser  Foxglove  {Digitalis  lutca),  with  dark,  shiny 
foliage  and  packed  spikes  of  pale  yellow  blossoms. 
The  orange-yellow  Leopard's-Bane,  Senecio  Doroni- 
cum,  and  the  pink  and  white  Valeriana  montana, 
are  upon  the  dry,  turfy  banks ;  and  down  upon 
the  lower  slopes,  among  the  shrubs  or  out  in  the 
sun-baked  open,  is  a  brilliant  concourse  of  yellow 
Ononis  natrix,  pink  O.  rotundifolia  (here  and  there 
white  in  form),  blue,  Thrift-like  Jasione  montana, 
tall,  rich-blue,  open-flowered  Campanula  persici- 
folia,  and  pure  yellow,  red-stamened  Verbascum 
phlomoides,  finest  of  the  Mulleins.  Intense-blue 
clumps  of  Hyssop  enliven  the  hot,  shaly  spaces ; 
and  here,  too,  is  Linum  tenuifolium,  a  Flax  with 
delicate  lilac  flowers;  the  Golden  Thistle  (Ca/Vma 
vulgaris),  which,  with  the  white  C.  acaulis,  is  so 
useful  for  winter  decoration :  the  exquisite  pink 
and  white  rambling  Vetch,  Coronilla  vaiia ;  and 
Dianthus  sylvestris  and  D.  Carthusianorum  are 
wellnigh  everywhere  in  pink  and  red  abundance — 
the  latter  sometimes  running  to  so  deep  and  fiery 
a  shade  as  to  be  found  worthy  of  the  additional 
name  of  atroruhens. 


THE   JULY   FIELDS  123 

Truly,  this  is  a  "  sun-kissed  land  of  plenty,"  with 
July  blazoned  in  tones  of  utmost  triumph  !  Yet 
harmony,  restraint,  refinement,  have  not  in  any 
way  been  sacrificed.  Our  sense  of  this  is  so  acute 
that  when  we  return  to  the  plains,  the  gardens 
and  their  gorgeous  burdens  are  apt  to  jar  upon 
us,  as  will  vulgarity  or  a  flagrant  want  of  taste. 

After  some  three  months  spent  in  intimacy 
with  these  slopes  and  fields,  go  down  to  the 
swallow's  summer  quarters — to  JNIartigny,  or  else- 
where on  the  plain — and  mark  the  Zinnias  and 
French  Marigolds,  Asters  and  Sweet-AVilliams, 
and  the  flaming  beds  of  Petunias,  Salvias,  and 
Geraniums.  Mark  how  gross  seems  all  this 
"  cultivation "  after  the  Alpine  wildness.  You 
are  at  once  constrained  to  ask  yourself.  What 
is  there  derogatory  in  wildness  if  to  be  cultivated 
is  to  be  as  these  garden  flowers  ?  You  see  at 
once  more  clearly  than  possibly  you  ever  saw 
before  that,  after  all,  refinement  is  largely  a 
relative  quantity,  and  that  even  the  Rose,  Dean 
Hole's  "  Queen  Rosa,"  can  appear  coarse  after  you 
have  spent  a  season  with  the  Gentian. 

And  perhaps  it  is  this  feeling  that  can  account 
in  some  measure  for  our  habit  of  isolating  all 
Alpines  upon  rockworks.     Perhaps  it  prompts  us 


124   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

to  treat  them  with  special  deference  ;  and  though 
we  will  not,  cannot  deny  the  Balsam,  or  the 
Tropeolum,  or  the  Cactus  Dahlia  our  loudest 
acclamations  ;  though  we  keep  for  these  and  such- 
like products  of  cultivation  a  proud  place  in  our 
affections,  haihng  them  as  familiars  allied  most 
intimately  to  our  ordinary,  worldly  natures, — 
though,  I  say,  we  hold  this  grosser,  gaudier 
vegetation  with  loving  tenacity  to  our  hearts,  yet 
is  our  rarer  self  in  instant  touch  with  these  Alpine 
wild-flowers,  and,  as  it  were,  conducts  them 
honourably  to  a  shrine  apart. 

The  Aster  and  the  Edelweiss  are  now  in  bloom 
above  us,  and  we  are  "  list'ning  with  nice  distant 
ears  "  to  the  chime  of  the  cattle-bells,  wind-wafted 
from  the  higher  pastures,  half  wishing  it  were  our 
business  to  climb.  We  could,  if  we  would,  be 
again  with  the  youth  of  the  year ;  for  one  of  the 
delightful  possibilities  of  Alpine  residence  is  to  be 
able  to  follow  spring  and  summer  well  into  the 
heart  of  autumn.  But  this  year  we  dare  not ; 
our  task  is  to  watch  these  half-way  fields  to  the 
end  of  the  floral  seasons.  Nor  is  our  lot  a  hard 
one.  Though  flower-land  hereabouts  is  now  nearly 
a  dream  of  yesterday,  yet  have  we  much  that  can 


THE  JULY  FIELDS  125 

still  hold  us  to  the  spot,  enchanted  and  instructed  ; 
though  for  some  few  days  past  the  fields  have  seen 
their  best,  and  are  now  for  the  most  part  spacious 
park-like  pleasaunres  of  yellowish-green,  yet  have 
we  still  the  famous  setting  of 

"...  dreaming  mountains, 
Lifted  from  the  world  together  "  ; 

yet  have  we  still  the  vast,  irreproachable  arena 
which,  there  is  no  gainsaying,  has  helped  towards 
the  deep  and  lasting  impression  we  have  gathered 
from  the  meadows. 

Over  yonder,  towering  high  above  the  Grand 
St.  Bernard  road,  and  reflected  snow  for  snow 
and  precipice  for  precipice  in  the  placid  waters  of 
the  lake,  is  the  Grand  Combin,  one  of  the  noblest 
units  of  "  those  great  constellations  of  snow-peaks 
which  Nature  has  massed,  in  splendid  and  prodigal 
confusion,"  in  this  part  of  Switzerland  ;  away,  at 
the  end  of  the  Val  Ferret,  are  the  white  and 
graceful  hues  of  the  Grand  Golliaz,  flanked  on  the 
near  side  by  the  massif  of  Saleinaz,  and  on  the 
further  side  by  the  Groupe  du  Grand  Saint- 
Bernard  ;  while,  immediately  above  us,  suffused 
with  the  red  of  the  flowering  Rhododendron,  are  the 
steep  and  rocky  masses  of  the  Breyaz,  the  Clocher 


126  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

d'Arpette,  and  the  Catogne,  that  curious  mountain 
that  can  be  seen  from  Vevey  and  Lausanne,  a 
sugarloaf-like  cone,  blocking  the  very  centre  of  the 
Rhone  Valley. 

What  a  happy  thing  it  is  that  in  this  neighbour- 
hood the  mountains  are  reminiscent  of  nothing 
except  their  own  giant  individualities.  How 
vexing  when  this  is  otherwise — when,  I  mean, 
there  is  a  lion  rock,  or  a  weeping  woman,  or  a 
head  of  Napoleon  in  the  landscape ;  as  when  Mark 
Twain  discovered  that  one  of  the  aiguilles  flanking 
Mont  Blanc  "  took  the  shapely,  clean-cut  form  of 
a  rabbit's  head."  At  Chateau  d'Oex,  for  instance, 
the  outline  of  the  Gummfluh  is  a  really  creditable 
profile  likeness  of  the  great  Gladstone  with  his 
collar,  and  that  of  the  Rubli  next  door  presents 
the  profile  of  O'Connell,  the  Irish  patriot.  Apart 
from  the  damage  inflicted  upon  the  landscape  by 
the  intrusion  of  party  politics,  such  huge  examples 
of  Nature's  unconscious  incursions  into  portraiture, 
when  once  they  have  made  themselves  plain, 
become  a  distressing  obsession  ;  and  especially  is 
this  so  for  the  artist  who  attempts  to  paint  these 
mountains  without  producing  a  puzzle-picture. 
Fortunately,  there  are  some  places  which  up  to 
the   present  seem   to  know   nothing  of  such  un- 


THE   JULY   FIELDS  127 

toward  resemblances  in  their  surroundings  ;  for- 
tunately, there  are  some  beauty-spots  which  have 
so  far  escaped  the  eye  with  the  disturbing  gift 
of  "  seeing  forms  "  in  clouds  and  trees  and  whatnot ; 
and  Champex  is  one  such.  At  Champex  we  may 
rest  and  dream  without  fear  of  our  indulgence 
degenerating  into  a  nightmare. 

But  this  is  not  such  a  season  for  dreaming  as 
was  the  spring  ;  we  are  far  more  of  the  world  than 
we  were  when  the  Vernal  Gentian,  that  "  turquoise 
lighting  a  ground  of  green,"  was  heralding  all  that 
is  now  so  rapidly  falling  before  the  scythe.  Yet  it 
must  not  be  supposed  that  these  fields  have  lost  all 
power  to  nourish  or  stimulate  the  imagination. 
The  configuration  and  nature  of  the  ground  are  so 
varied  that  haymaking  is  a  more  lengthy  and 
irregular  operation  than  it  is  upon  the  plains.  We 
have  only  to  turn  to  the  ousy  land  where  the 
Grass-of- Parnassus  ^  opens  its  white,  green-veined, 
Ranunculus-like  flowers  among  the  large,  rich-blue 
bells  of  Campanula  Scheuchzeri  and  the  tall,  paler 
blue   spikes   of   Polemonium   cceruleurn,  the   well- 

'  The  name  " Grass-of-Parnassus "  often  occasions  wonder;  for  the 
plant,  a  member  of  the  St.  John's  Wort  tribe,  shows  no  affinity  to 
grass.  Ainie  Pratt,  in  her  celebrated  book  on  English  ^\'ild-flowers, 
says  the  name  possibly  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  plant  "  is  as  com- 
mon as  the  very  grass  itself  on  Mount  Parnassus." 


128    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

known  Jacob's  Ladder  of  our  gardens ;  or  to  the 
drier  stretches  where  the  Heather  is  just  tinting 
its  oHve-green  branches  with  a  suspicion  of  rose, 
and  the  Rampions,  Arnica,  Hieracium,  and  Brown 
Gentian  are  mingHng  with  the  warm  grey,  feathery 
seed-heads  of  Anemone  sulphur ea.  Here  we  find 
the  flowers  and  butterflies  as  numerous  and  as 
gay  as  ever ;  here  among  the  grasses  is  Banagna 
Ati'ata,  the  little  dull-black  moth  with  white- 
tipped  wings,  seeking  sanctuary  from  the  devas- 
tating work  of  the  reapers ;  Zygoena  carniolica, 
one  of  the  most  distinct  and  fascinating  of  the 
bright  Burnet  butterflies,  a  stranger  to  Eng- 
land, greedily  absorbed  upon  the  flowers  of  the 
Scabious  ;  numberless  Fritillaries,  speeding  hither 
and  thither,  their  burnished  pearl-backed  wings 
flashing  in  the  sunlight, — here,  in  fact,  we  have 
summer  at  its  height,  uninjured,  undisturbed — 
a  place,  as  Walden  was,  where  we  may  "  transact 
some  private  business  with  the  fewest  obstacles." 

Messieurs  les  etr angers  (how  good  a  name !)  are 
now  arriving  by  the  hundred.  Flora's  Feast  in 
this  region  may  be  said  to  be  over,  and  the  table 
is  all  but  cleared.  For  full  two  months  have  we 
been  revelling  in  a   luxury   of  colour   which  no 


ui  our  . 

its  olive-green  branches  with  a  sii«? 
and  the  Rampions,  Arnica,  Hie: 

c '■■--■- ■■■■■'■ ■^^-  ■■'--  - 


numero 


ruary  from  the  devas 

work   oi'  tr 
of  the  most 

brio  hi    Burnet    hiittei 

1.:.^,''^  PARADISIA    LILIASTRUM,   the    Paradise   py      , 

c,      ,  .  St.  Bruno's  Lily. 

and   thitl). 
fllashii 


tte  bush)  west  obstacles. ' 

Mo./iieurs  les  etrangers  (how  good  a  nnrrr 
now   arriving  by  the  hundred.     Fl 
this  \>  y  be  said  to  be  over 

is  al-  (I     Vnr  fill!  two  n, 


THE   JULY   FIELDS  129 

other  two  months  make  any  but  an  indifferent 
attempt  to  approach  ;  and  it  is  when  these  two 
months  have  run  their  unique,  dehghtful  course 
that  the  vast  majority  of  our  fellows  arrive.  How 
strangely  perverse  a  state  of  things  is  tliis  I  How 
curiously  sunken  in  the  groove  of  custom  ! 

The  fields  are  bald,  the  slopes  are  shorn  or 
ragged,  and  the  grass  that  is  left  standing  is  look- 
ing for  the  most  part  very  "  seedy."  The  golden- 
flowered,  pink-flowered,  and  white-flowered  Sedums 
are  blossoming  upon  the  field-rocks  ;  the  VVillow- 
Herb  is  lighting  up  the  rough  and  stony  places 
with  its  rosy-red  spikes ;  the  Bilberry's  fruit  is 
turning  a  dusty  blue  and  its  foliage  here  and  there 
is  showing  promise  of  a  fiery  autumn  ;  the  Rho- 
dodendron is  developing  on  its  thick  leaves  the 
brilliant  red  excrescences  which,  like  the  hairy,  red 
excrescences  on  our  common  Dog  Rose,  are  said 
to  be  so  efficacious  in  cases  of  rheumatism  ;  the 
dainty,  black-bordered  Damon  "  Blue "  butterfly 
flits  from  the  Heather  to  stray  blooms  of  Arnica 
and  Astrantia,  and  many  a  brown  Erebia  is 
hampered  and  tired  out  by  a  horde  of  red  parasites 
beneath  its  wings.  Summer,  in  fact,  is  leaning 
obviously  towards  autumn,  and  we  can  expect 
nothing  more  of  note  from  these  meadows,  except 
9 


130  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

a  lovely  wealth  of  magenta-pink  Colchicum  or 
"  Autumn  Crocus  "  in  August  and  September. 

When  visitors,  arriving  at  this  late  stage  in 
Flora's  fortunes,  see  my  coloured  transcripts  of  the 
fields  in  May  and  June,  they  think  that  I,  like  any 
prejudiced  enthusiast,  have  falsified  my  evidence. 
They  find  the  pictures  ben  t?^ovato,  and  they  say  : 
"  How  beautiful !  but  of  course  you  have  used 
an  artist's  licence  ? "  They  look  at  the  shaven  or 
dingy  fields,  then  again  at  my  paintings,  and  they 
tell  me  plainly  they  think  they  can  prove  an  alibi 
for  the  flowers  in  spring,  or,  at  any  rate,  for  a  greater 
part  of  those  I  have  depicted.  And  I — I  can  only 
assure  them  their  case  has  "  no  leg  to  stand  upon." 
I  can  only  insist  that  if  they  knew  of  my  despair 
when  seated  with  my  picture  among  the  flowers  in 
spring — my  despair  of  ever  being  able  to  give 
more  than  an  inkling  of  the  glorious  riot  that 
surrounded  me — they  would  suspect  the  truth  ;  and 
that  if  next  year  they  came  here  and  witnessed  for 
themselves,  then,  when  again  they  looked  upon 
my  pictures,  they  would  curl  the  lip  and  speak  of 
insufficiency. 

I  am  aware  that  it  is,  of  course,  not  possible  for 
many  of  the  late-coming  visitors  to  leave  the 
home  shores  earlier  in  the  year :  business  is  busi- 


THE   JULY  FIELDS  131 

ness,  schooling  is  schooling,  fixed  holidays  are  fixed 
holidays.  But  without  doubt  there  are  many 
who  could  be  more  timely,  if  they  chose — many 
who  in  June  are  crowding  at  Montreux,  or  Geneva, 
or  Lucerne,  thinking  it  too  early  for  the  moun- 
tains. For  there  are  many  who  are  persuaded  that 
spring  is  a  dangerous  period  in  the  Alps.  They 
will  tell  you  in  all  seriousness,  as  they  have  told 
me,  that  it  is  in  spring  in  the  Alps  that  the 
microbes  re-awaken  after  their  winter's  sleep,  and 
that,  therefore,  it  is  better  to  be  in  the  towns  ;  in 
the  towns,  mark  you,  where  the  microbes,  more 
monstrous  and  numerous,  rarely  if  ever,  slumber 
— or,  if  they  do  so,  it  is  with  one  eye  open  I 

Then  there  are  those  who,  because  they  know 
nothing  about  flowers,  are  convinced  that  the  Alps 
for  them  would  be  a  place  of  ennui  in  the  spring 
when  high  excursions  are  not  yet  possible.  But 
what  a  mistake  it  is  to  imagine  we  must  be  botan- 
ists or  gardeners  in  order  to  feel  a  full  joy  in  these 
fields  !  No  particular  knowledge  is  required  to 
appreciate  them  ;  there  is  no  peremptory  need  to 
know  by  name  a  Geranium  from  an  Orchid,  a 
Pansy  from  a  Cauliflower.  Indeed,  I  am  not  at  all 
sure  but  that  the  "  plain  man  "  or  woman  does  not 
really   enjoy  them   more    than    does    the    plant- 


132    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

specialist.  For  joy  comes  mostly  fuller  with  the 
broader  moments  of  life,  and  analysis  is  apt  to 
injure  the  soul-stirring  harmony  of  things.  And 
as  the  merely  emotional  value  of  these  fields  is 
immense,  their  appeal  is  quite  as  general  as  it  is 
particular,  perhaps  even  more  so  ;  for  the  emotional 
qualities  of  anything  are  more  acceptable  to  the 
man-in-the-street  than  are  its  precise  and  reasoned 
quantities.  And,  just  as  there  are  far  fewer 
musicians  within  the  ranks  of  executants  than 
outside,  so  there  are  more  flower-lovers  and  lovers 
of  floral  beauty  outside  the  ranks  of  botany  and 
gardening  than  there  are  within.  Thus  amid 
these  fields  the  plain,  expansive  man  or  woman 
need  be  in  no  fear  of  ennui.  Ennui ! — why,  even 
when  the  visitors  do  come  and  the  flowers  have 
seen  their  best,  there  is  no  ennui !  Then  how 
much  more  inspiring  must  it  be  when  the  fields 
are  in  their  hey-day,  not  their  hay-day  ! 

It  is,  then,  upon  all  and  sundry  that  I  urge  the 
claims  of  the  Alps  from  the  middle  of  May  to 
mid- July  ;  it  is  to  the  merest  tyro  in  plant-lore,  as 
well  as  to  the  botanical  and  gardening  enthusiast, 
that  I  say,  and  say  in  all  persuasiveness  of  con- 
viction :  "  You  know  not  what  you  miss  by  failing 
'  To  catch  the  master-note  of  Nature's  lyre ' ; 


THE   JULY  FIELDS  133 

you  know  not  what  you  lose  by  neglecting  the  call 
of  the  flowers  from  off  these  Alpine  fields." 

Go  where  you  will — Champex  alone  is  not  the 
Alpine  throne  of  Flora  ;  she  reigns  superbly  to 
right  and  left,  from  Neuchatel  to  Valais,  from 
Tessin  to  Geneva — go  where  you  will  amid  the 
Alps  and  you  will  find  fields  that  shall  enchant 
you,  rejuvenating  your  spirit  and  causing  the 
"  knapsack  of  custom,"  full  of  "  city  estimates  of 
great  and  small,  wise  and  foolish,"  to  slip  from 
your  back.  The  plains  of  the  world  are  the 
better  for  the  mountains  of  the  world,  and  in  no 
respect  more  so  than  when  the  mountains  are 
a-flower. 


CHAPTER    X 


THE   AUTUMN    CROCUS 


"  Tu  viens,  Automiie, 
Tu  viens  ensevelir  dans  tes  habits  de  fete 
Les  cadavres  couches  au  champ  de  leur  defaite." 

Aloys  Blondel  (the  Swiss  Poet). 

Perhaps  the  only  flower  to  bless,  and  bless  again, 
the  passage  of  the  scythe  over  the  damp  slopes  and 
fields  of  Alpine  Switzerland  is  Colcliicum  autumnale, 
the  so-called  Autumn  Crocus ;  for,  from  the  close- 
cropped  grass  it  pushes  up  its  blossoms  when  all 
other  field-growth  has  done  its  utmost.  What 
sorry  plight  it  would  be  in  if  the  tall  yellowing 
plants  and  grasses  were  still  left  standing,  cum- 
bering the  ground  with  a  dense  and  matted  vege- 
tation !  It  would  be  smothered  ;  or,  at  best,  it 
would  have  a  fearsome  struggle  to  see  the  sky. 
One  wonders  how  it  contrived  when,  in  ages  past, 
these  meadows  went  uncut.  One  wonders  if  the 
active   appetites   of  browsing   animals   sufficed   to 


THE   AUTUMN   CROCUS  135 

clear  the  ground  in  anticipation  of  its  scheduled 
ad\'ent ;  and,  should  this  not  have  been  the  case, 
one  wonders  if  at  that  time  it  were  an  inhabitant 
of  such  fields  as  these,  or  whether  it  were  denizened 
in  more  propitious  places  ? 

For  as  soon  as  the  haymakers  have  gone  their 
way,  this  lovely  flower  begins  its  apparition.  Often, 
even  within  a  week  of  the  haymakers'  visit,  hun- 
dreds upon  hundreds  of  its  creamy-white  pointed 
buds  will  show  as  if  by  magic  above  the  close  turf ; 
and  after  a  day  or  two  more  of  sunshine,  the  fields 
will  have  regained  what  is  almost  springtime  life 
and  gaiety.  Many  of  us  were  sighing  whilst  we 
watched  the  scythe's  disastrous  progress,  and  were 
saying  that  all  was  over  and  it  was  time  to  be 
moving  plainwards ;  but  those  of  us  who  knew, 
said :  "  Wait — wait !  These  fields  have  yet  another 
trump-card  to  play  !  " 

"  What  awe  and  worship  follow  in  her  wake, 
When  Nature  works  wild  magic  all  her  own  ! " 

A  week  ago  we  looked  for  colour  to  the  autumn- 
infected  bush  and  tree,  and  now  quite  suddenly, 
over  the  tired  fields,  there  steals  a  pale  magenta 
glow,  almost  as  the  spring-glow  spread  by  the 
Bird's-Eye  or   Mealy  Primrose ;    a   week   ago  we 


136  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

lived  and  dreamed  upon  the  past,  and  now  we  are 
startled  back  to  the  present  by  this,  "  the  last  that 
the  damp  earth  yields" — last  but  not  least — last 
but  in  some  ways  equal  to  the  first. 

This  Colchicum  receives,  in  spring,  in  summer, 
and  in  autumn,  as  much  general  attention  as  any 
plant  in  Alpine  or  sub-Alpine  vegetation.  In 
spring  and  summer  the  cluster  of  rich-green 
Lily-Hke  leaves  attracts  the  eye  and  raises  the 
curiosity  and  expectation  of  even  the  casual 
observer,  especially  when  this  observer  notices 
what  he  almost  invariably  takes  to  be  a  flower-bud 
nestling  in  the  heart  of  the  leaves ;  for  if  there  is 
one  family  of  plants  which  the  world  worships 
more  than  another,  it  is  the  Lily  family.  And 
this  Autumn  Crocus  is  very  commonly  taken  for 
a  Lily — a  Lily  soon  to  burst  into  rare  and  glorious 
bloom. 

But  it  is  not  the  flower-bud  our  casual  observer 
sees  ;  it  is  the  seed-head.  The  plant  blooms,  leaf- 
less, in  the  autumn  ;  its  seed-vessel  is  tucked  away 
for  the  winter  a  foot  or  more  beneath  the  surface 
of  the  ground,  to  rise  with  the  leaves  in  the  spring, 
and  to  ripen  with  the  leaves  in  the  summer.  Yet, 
if  our  casual  friend  is  wrong  as  regards  the  nature 


>WEH.FIELDS  O'  ^HLAND 

lived  and  dreamed  i  i^  we  are 

Inrtled  back  to  the  present  by  tr  hat 

tiie   dar       -    "*i  yields" — last  but  li  last 
but  in  ■                 s  equal  to  the  first. 


b- Alpine  vegetation. 

r    of    rich-greea 

....,  ...V.  .  V..V,.   .........    ..i^    .^e   and  raises   the 

curiosity    and    expectation    of    even    the    casual 

ob         ROSA   4LP/iV^,  the  thornless  Alpine  Eglantine.  ''''^ 

WHfli     fit,     JHI.UtN:..     »!  I  V  .' .  u:  ■ '1  y     i.ii.lV\,;>    '-  >  >    i/"0   II    S1M«  L'> -bllti 

nestling  in  the  heart  of  the  leaves ;  for  if  thert-  k 
one  family  of  plants  which  the  world  wor^ipf  s 
more  f  "         .  .      r  ,     .     -. 

this  Ai 

a  Lily  mto  rare  and  glorious 

:iowcr-bud  our  casual  observer 
sc'  :  ed-head.     The  plant  blooms,  leaf- 

less, ill  liie  autumn ;  its  seed-vessel  is  tuck 
for  the  winter  a  foot  or  more  beneath  th' 
of  the  ground,  to  rise  with  the  leaves  in  i\ 
;  with  the  leaves  in  t) 


THE   AUTUMN  CROCUS  137 

of  the  seed-head  in  the  spring,  he  is  right  as  regards 
the  nature  of  the  leaves  ;  though  he  is  again  wrong 
in  the  autumn,  and  this  time  as  regards  the  nature 
of  the  flower.  For  the  Colchicum  is  not  a  Crocus. 
Although  its  magenta-pink  blossom  is  of  Crocus- 
like form,  it  has  six  stamens  and  three  styles  with 
which  the  humble-bee  may  busy  himself;  whereas 
the  Crocus  has  but  three  stamens  and  one  style. 
There  does  exist  a  purple  autumnal  Crocus — Croais 
nudijiorus,  indigenous  to  England,  and  with  the 
same  habit  of  flowering  and  producing  its  seed  as 
the  Colchicum's — but  this  and  the  Colchicum  be- 
long to  different  natural  orders. 

The  Colchicum  is  a  member  of  the  Lily  family, 
and,  as  such,  is  related  to  some  of  the  most  distin- 
guished members  of  the  flower- world.  For  this 
reason,  too,  it  is  allied  to  such  diverse  plants  as 
the  Herb  Paris,  the  Lily-of-the- Valley,  the 
Asparagus,  and  the  Spiked  Star  of  Bethlehem 
{Ornithogalum  pyrenaicum),  an  indigenous  English 
plant  whose  young  spring  shoots  are  sold  and 
eaten  in  Bath  as  "  French "  Asparagus.  It  has 
also  as  blood-relation  the  Onion  and  the  Garlic, 
which,  according  to  Professor  G.  S.  Boulger,  "  were 
given  divine  honours  by  the  ancient  Egyptians  " ; 
also  the  curious  Butcher's  Broom  or  Knee  Holly, 


138    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

and  the  real  Star  of  Bethlehem  {O?^nithogalum 
umbellatum),  whose  bulbs  in  Palestine  are  cooked 
and  eaten. 

But  if  the  bulbs  and  young  shoots  of  some 
members  of  this  singularly  "  mixed "  family  are 
esteemed  as  table  delicacies,  not  so  the  bulbs  and 
shoots  of  the  Colchicum,  for  these  are  poisonous 
to  a  high  degree — in  fact,  the  whole  of  the  plant 
may  be  labelled  "  Dangerous."  Although  the 
flower  is  less  poisonous  than  the  seed  and  the 
bulb,  yet  many  a  time  I  have  seen  bees  which 
had  sought  refuge  from  the  night  or  from  rough 
and  stormy  weather,  lying  prone  and  stark  within 
the  lovely  pink  chaHces,  victims  of  a  misplaced 
confidence.  The  seed  contains  a  deadly  alkaloid 
(colchicin),  used  especially  in  cases  of  gout.  Where 
the  plant  grows  in  quantities  it  depreciates  the 
value  of  the  meadows  ;  for  the  cattle,  wiser  in  their 
generation  than  the  bees,  give  it  a  wide  berth  at  all 
seasons.  And  it  is  no  easy  subject  to  drive  from 
the  fields  when  once  it  has  gained  firm  footing. 
It  buries  its  dark  chestnut-coloured,  scaly  bulb  at 
least  a  foot  down  in  the  peaty  soil,  necessitating 
the  cutting  of  a  good-sized  hole  before  it  can  be 
extirpated.  Hence,  if  it  is  growing  as  it  almost 
invariably  does,  in  fairly  close-packed  abundance, 


THE   AUTUMN   CROCUS  139 

the  meadow  will  have  to  be  deep-dug  all  over  ; 
and  such  radical  measure  as  this  the  peasants 
as  a  rule  refuse  to  take,  contenting  themselves 
with  pulling  up  the  leaf  and  stalk  before  the  fields 
are  cut,  or  with  sorting  them  out  from  the  new- 
mown  hay. 

As  a  plant  indigenous  to  the  British  Isles  it 
is  very  local,  though  widely  distributed.  Saffron 
Walden,  in  Essex,  is  named  after  it,  and  it  is 
found  in  Ireland  and  in  some  parts  of  Scotland, 
especially  upon  the  damp  meadows  of  limestone 
districts. 

The  name  Colchicum,  of  Greek  origin,  is  said 
to  be  derived  from  Colchis,  a  province  in  Asia 
famous  for  poisonous  herbs.  In  England,  besides 
the  names  of  Autumn  Crocus  and  Meadow 
Saffron  {Crocus  sativus  is  really  the  true  Saffron 
Crocus),  its  flower  is  known  in  some  parts  of 
the  country  as  Naked  Boy,  and  in  Dorset  as 
Naked  Lucy,  an  allusion,  of  course,  to  it  being 
bare  of  leaves.  In  France  its  popular  names  are 
seemingly  more  various,  and  besides  the  general 
one  of  Colchique,  it  has  those  of  Veilleuse,  Veil- 
lotte,  Violon,  Vache,  and  Tue-chien  ;  while  in  the 
patois  of  Marseilles  it  is  known  as  Bramo-Vaco, 
and  in  that  of  Gascony  as  Safra  dcs  prats.      In 


140  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Germany   its    best-known   appellation   is  Herbst- 
Zeitlose. 

There  is  an  Alpine  form  of  the  Meadow  Saffron 
— Colchicum  alpinum — and  this  is  to  be  found 
upon  the  fields  from  an  altitude  of  about  3,000 
feet  to  some  4,500  feet,  according  to  M.  Henry 
Correvon,  and  from  about  1,800  feet  to  some 
6,000  feet,  according  to  Professor  Flahault.  Mr. 
Newell  Arber  calls  it  a  rare  plant  "  sometimes 
found  in  Canton  Tessin  and  the  Valais,"  but  my 
own  experience  is  that  it  is  local  rather  than 
rare,  and  that  it  is  fairly  frequent  in  Canton 
Valais,  especially  in  non-limestone  regions.  Its 
habit  is  the  same  as  that  of  autumnale :  two  to 
three  upright  leaves  surrounding  the  fruit  in  the 
spring,  and  the  flowers  appearing  "  naked "  in 
autumn  upon  "  dim  fields  fresh  with  blooming 
dew."  But  the  leaves  are  narrower  than  those 
of  autumnale^  and  the  flower  is  smaller,  daintier, 
more  'petite,  with  a  suspicion  of  canary-yellow 
tinting  the  stem,  which,  in  autumnale,  is  white 
or  creamy-white. 

I  have  sometimes  noted  the  two — autumnale 
and  alpinum — hob-nobbing  upon  the  same  slope 
or  field.  Such  fraternity  exists,  for  instance,  quite 
near  to  the  snug  little  village  of  Trient,  beneath 


THE   AUTUMN  CROCUS  141 

the  Col  de  la  Forclaz  and  the  Col  de  Balme, 
and  again  on  a  rich  grassy  slope  by  the  lake 
of  Champex  ;  and  where  this  occurs  the  difference 
between  the  two  flowers  is  manifest.  Colchicum 
nlpinujii  may  be  only  the  Alpine  form  of 
autumnale,  but  if  it  is,  it  is,  I  believe,  a  fixed 
form — a  form  which,  unhke  some  Alpine  forms 
of  lowland  flowers  (such  as,  for  example,  An- 
thyUis  vulncraria),  steadfastly  maintains  its  high- 
land character  when  transported  to  the  gardens 
of  the  plain.  For  if  instability  exists,  why  should 
we  find  upon  the  fields  where  both  do  congregate, 
no  intermediate  forms  marking  the  passage  of 
autumnale  to  alpinum  and  vice  versa  ?  I  believe 
it  to  be  as  constant  as  is  Gentiana  bj^achyphylla, 
although  this  is  said  to  be  but  a  high  Alpine 
form  of  G.  verna.  I  believe  it  to  be  as  "  con- 
stant as  the  northern  star." 

In  a  poem  to  "  Noon,"  Michael  Field  sings : 

"...  Sharply  on  my  mind 
Presses  the  sorrow  ;  fern  and  flower  are  blind  "  ; 

and  this  is  no  uncommon  thought,  no  uncommon 
"  sorrow "  for  others  than  poets  to  have.  Pity 
for   the   dear,    blind  flowers ;   pity,   therefore,   for 


142  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

such  a  flower  as  the  Autumn  Crocus ;  is  it 
justified  ?  I  imagine  it  is  not.  I  venture  even 
to  say  I  am  sure  it  is  not. 

Here  is  a  flower  that  is  exceptional.  It  defies 
the  general  rule,  the  usual  sequence  of  life  for 
flowers.  It  reverses  the  customary  order  of 
events  and,  so  to  speak,  turns  day  into  night. 
And  it  does  so  with  the  utmost  felicity.  Its 
well-being  is  ideal,  for  it  shows  perfect  adapta- 
tion to  its  circumstance.  What,  then,  have  we  ? 
"  What  rumour  of  what  mystery  ? "  Can  it  be 
a  rumour  of  disability  through  blindness?  Is  it 
a  rumour  of  the  mystery  of  justice  ?  Is  it,  that 
is  to  say,  a  rumour  of  "  injustice  "  ?  I  think  not ; 
nay,  I  am  sure  not.  It  is,  if  you  ask  me,  a 
rumour  of  that  wide  and  many-sided  efficiency 
to  which  we  refer  when  we  declare  :  "  There  are 
more  ways  than  one  of  killing  a  cat." 

The  fault  is  quite  a  common  one  with  us.  We 
fall  into  it  each  time  we  talk  of  animals — the 
"  poor,  dumb  animals."  Wherefore  poor  ?  Where- 
fore dumb  ?  Man,  noisily  verbose,  condescends 
to  commiserate  with  anything  less  noisy  or  less 
verbose  than  himself.  To  him,  an  absence  of 
capacity  for  a  volubility  matching  his  own  marks 
unhappiness.     What,  he   asks,  would  not   a  cow 


THE   AUTUMN  CROCUS  143 

give  for  humanity's  gift  of  the  gab  ?  Anything 
short  of  a  garrulous  chatterbox  of  a  mouse  must 
be  a  wretched  mouse  ! 

How  contorted  a  view  to  take  when  every 
Hving  thing  (except,  perhaps,  man)  is  capable  of 
adequate  communion  with  its  kind,  and  when 
that  which  is  adequate  is  happy  I  The  method 
of  communication  may  not  be  man's  method  ;  he 
may  not  understand  a  sound  of  it,  and  there  may 
even  be  no  sound  for  him  to  hear ;  nevertheless 
there  is  language  clear  and  effective — perhaps 
more  clear  and  more  effective  than  his  own.  Who 
shall  say  the  language  of  the  ant  or  the  bee  is 
not  more  developed  and  more  efficient  than  either 
English  or  Chinese  ?  Efficiency  does  not  ulti- 
mately lie  in  complexity,  neither  does  it  ultimately 
depend  upon  noise. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  a  horse,  unless  he  has 
better  sense,  feels  the  profoundest  pity  for  his 
garrulous  master,  and  counts  him  among  the  most 
unhappy  of  his  acquaintances.  A  lion's  roar  or 
a  bat's  squeak  may  contain  a  wealth  of  information 
such  as  it  would  take  Man  an  hour's  hard  talking 
to  translate  ;  and  both  may  indicate  a  world  of 
happiness. 

Man,  the  rowdiest  animal  in  Creation,  is  also 


144  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

the  most  conceited.  He  is  for  ever  thanking  his 
stars  he  is  not  as  others  are  ;  and  this  enables 
him  to  misplace  a  vast  amount  of  pity.  I  warrant 
the  poor,  dumb,  grunting  pig  is  perfectly  happy — 
far  happier  than  the  most  glib  of  human  orators  ; 
and  far  more  to  the  point.  Poor,  dumb  animals  ? 
Why,  what  a  poor,  talkative  creature  is  man  I 
And  how  unmindful  of  his  own  proverb  about 
"  little  pitchers  "  1 

Eyes  are  not  everything,  ears  are  not  everything, 
tongues  are  not  everything.  Neither  are  eyes,  ears, 
and  tongues  together  everything.  There  is  sight 
without  eyes,  hearing  without  ears,  and  speech  with- 
out tongues.  Science  can  prove  it,  when  Science 
chooses.  For  there  is  sense  behind  our  senses — 
sense  as  unerring  as  any  declared  by  our  senses. 
I  have,  indeed,  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  we  may 
be  poor  beside  the  ant ;  and  I  have  a  somewhat 
uncomfortable  feeling  that  in  some  ways  we  may 
be  paupers  beside  poor,  blind  Colchicum  autumnale. 

Have  you  ever  stayed  for  autumn  in  the  Alps  ? 
Have  you  seen  the  Bilberry  glowing  among  the 
stolid  Rhododendron ;  the  Eglantine  and  Berberis 
bowing  beneath  the  weight  of  their  fiery  fruit ; 
the  long-tailed  and  the  crested  titmouse  hunting 


the  most  conceited 

the  poor,  dumb,  grunting  pig  is  ; 

<t  glib  of  liu 

roverb   a 

e  not  everything, 

•jigues  are  not  everythi  yes,  ears, 

T6ung  plarits  b'f  VERATRUM  ALBUM, 
together  with  SALVIA  PRATENSIS, 
PHYTEUMA  BETONICAEFOLIUM, 
P.  ORBICULARE,  the  white  and  the  n:'(i 
yellow  Euphrasia,  and  the  yellow  Clover, 
drawn  on  the  spot  at  the  beginning  of 
July.  -  .  . 

I  hav  8  shrewd  suspicion  that 


?n  autumi 


uu   cv  fjj    >Lavc*-!. 


? lave  you  seen  the  Bilberry 
)lid  Rhododendron ;  the  Eglantine  and 


THE   AUTUMN    CROCUS  145 

in  tuneful  bands  from  sombre  Pine  to  yellowing 
Larch  ;  the  massed  companies  of  piping  choughs 
surveying  for  food-stuff  upon  the  open  slopes ; 
and  the  dark  grey  or  russet  viper  basking  boldly 
on  the  sun-baked  path  ?  Have  you  known  the 
mists  and  mystery  that  soften  the  great  and 
gorgeous  carnival  with  which  Nature  celebrates 
the  closing  of  the  round  of  her  live  seasons  ?  If 
you  have,  then  you  will,  I  know,  bear  witness 
with  me  to  the  fullness  of  this  season's  allure ;  you 
will  agree  that  everything  around  you  is  in  rich 
accord  to  sing  a  glad,  gay  paean  ere  taking  a 
meed  of  well-earned  repose  ;  and  you  will  admit 
that,  as  an  item  in  this  splendid  spectacle,  nothing 
is  more  important,  more  appropriate,  than  Colchicum 
autumnale  and  alpinum. 

Among  the  most  delightful  of  life's  moments 
are  many  of  life's  surprises,  and  in  the  floral  world 
few  surprises  can  supply  more  delightful  moments 
than  the  unexpected  advent  of  this  "  Crocus  " 

"...  fashioned  in  the  secret  mint  of  things 
And  bidden  to  be  here." 

Spring  tries  hard  to  repeat  herself  in  the  two 
Meadow  Saffrons.     One  day 

"  The  meadows  are  waving  high 
With  plumy  grasses  of  grey"; 
10 


146   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

the  next,  the  scythe  comes,  and,  Hke  Harlequin's 
wand,  passes  restless  athwart  the  ripe  scene — and, 
hey,  presto  !  the  fields  have  all  the  closeness  of 
the  fields  in  springtime,  and  are  studded  with 
countless  rosy  stars  of  the  Autumn  Crocus,  just  as, 
in  the  first  days  of  the  year,  they  are  studded  with 
the  myriad  rosy  stars  of  Bidbocodium  vernum,  near 
relative  of  our  tardy  Colchique.  It  is  September 
struggling  to  be  May  or,  even,  April.  It  is  the 
goddess  of  the  flower-fields  bidding  us  to  a  rosy 
hope  in  her  recurrent  reign. 

And  yet,  and  yet — autumn  is  noticeably  in  the 
blood  of  things.  This  is  not  quite  the  rosiness 
of  the  year's  youth.  There  is  something  of  mauve 
in  it ;  something  of  a  becoming  consideration  for 
old  age.  It  is  obviously  an  autumnal  pink — a  pink 
which  falls  without  ado  into  the  glorious  colour- 
scheme  of  Nature's  kindling  funeral-pyre.  It  has 
something  of  the  spirit  of  the  colouring  surround- 
ing a  Chinese  burial.  There  is  sadness,  if  you 
will ;  but  there  is  gladness,  whether  you  will  or 
not.  Chopin's  famous  Funeral  March  might  have 
been  inspired  by  autumn's  pale-magenta  "  Crocus." 


PART  II 
A   PLEA 

"  Viens  au  jardin  !     Vieus  au  jardin  !     Je  veux  te  dire 
Ce  que  je  pense,  car  ma  pensee  est  a  toi 
Comme  la  brume  au  sol  et  la  fumee  au  toit. 
Viens  au  jardiu  !  " 

RosEMONDE  GERARD.  Les  Javdins. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ALPINE    FIELDS    FOR    ENGLAND 

"  En  multipliant  la  beaute,  en  donnant  au  nioude  des  humbles  le 
sens  de  la  sincere  beaute^  vous  lui  aurez  fait  la  plus  exquise  et 
peut-ctre  la  plus  utile  des  charites." — Pierbe  Vignot. 

The  title  of  this  chapter  will  come  as  a  shock  to 
some,  and  they  will  think  it  an  insult  to,  and  an 
outrage  upon.  Nature's  existing  efforts  for  English 
meadows.  In  my  previous  volume,  "  Alpine 
Flowers  and  Gardens,"  I  ventured  some  mild 
wonder  "  that  more  attempts  are  not  made  in 
England  to  create  Alpine  pastures,"  and  I  added  : 
*'  Alpine  rock-works  we  have  in  hundreds,  but  a 
stretch  of  meadow-land  sown  or  planted  with 
Alpine  field-flowers  seems  as  yet  to  be  but  rarely 
attempted."  And  of  this  mild  wonder  some  of  my 
critics  fell  foul,  and  I  was  told  that  I  seemed  "  to 
forget  the  peculiar  beauty  of  English  pasture  as  it 
is,  with  its  buttercups,  cowslips,  and  orchis,  daisies 

149 


150   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

and  red  sorrel."  But  let  me  reassure  these  nervous 
champions  of  what  is  "  made  in  England."  1  will 
be  the  last  to  slight  or  traduce  the  exquisite 
restraint  of  our  typical  home-fields,  or  to  despise 
the  spirit  that  can  appreciate  their  charm  and  place 
it  higher  than  the  charm  of  alien  fields.  The 
inhabitants  of  a  country  are  intimately  affected 
by  the  country's  fields,  and  an  Englishman  is  far 
more  a  product  of  his  meadows  than  even  he 
would  suppose.  His  sturdy  advocacy  of  a  floral 
sufficiency  which  stops  at  Dandelions  and  Butter- 
cups is  part  proof  of  this.  Reciprocity  in  Nature 
is  a  very  subtle  and  far-reaching  law,  and  man  owes 
much  of  his  temperament  and  habit  of  mind  to  the 
landscape  and  its  constituent  parts.  In  this  way, 
undoubtedly,  the  Englishman  is  largely  indebted 
to  the  comparative  taciturnity  of  his  fields.  Far 
be  from  me,  then,  to  under-rate  their  value  and 
their  charm. 

And  yet,  may  I  not  think  that  this  value  and 
charm  can  perhaps  be  augmented  ?  We  love  and 
revel  in  our  native  meadows  as  they  are — their 
Buttercups,  their  Dandelions,  their  Daisies,  and 
their  Grasses  ;  how  much  greater  would  not  the 
love  and  revel  be  if  here  and  there  a  generous 
measure  of  Swiss  mountain-wealth   were   added  ? 


ALPINE   FIELDS  FOR   ENGLAND  151 

Such  measure  would  be  no  violent  innovation  ;  it 
would  be  a  natural  amplification  of  the  hereditary 
trend  of  our  instinct  for  the  beautiful.  Swiss 
mountain-fields  are  not  like  Japanese  gardens  :  our 
nature  responds  to  them  without  affectation,  for  in 
them  our  mind 

"  Doth  straight  its  own  resemblance  find." 

It  is  all  very  well  for  confirmed  materialists  to 
say  we  have  not  to  study  this  side  of  the  question 
because  it  is  too  fanciful ;  it  is  not  to  be  dismissed 
by  calling  us  mystics.  Fancy  has  led  men  to  much 
that  is  now  inseparable  from  their  understanding, 
and  tlie  mystic  has  stood  for  ages  upon  spots  where 
Science  is  only  now  confidently  placing  her  foot. 
Really  and  truly,  too,  the  aesthetic  aspect  of  life 
comes  under  the  head  of  the  utilitarian,  and  it 
matters  more  than  much  that  is  deemed  material. 
Ruskin  thought  that  "  a  wood  of  English  trees  is 
of  more  value  to  humanity  than  a  Bank  ; "  but  this 
savours  of  too  dogmatic  thinking,  and  of  the 
extreme  dream  of  a  specialist  enthusiast.  Without 
drawing  invidious  comparisons  between  the  utilities 
of  life,  we  may  say  that  the  woods  and  fields  have 
an  importance  all  their  own,  and  that,  by  increas- 
ing their  beauty,  we  increase  their  importance. 


152   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

I  do  not  for  one  instant  think  that  in  Maytime 
we  could  improve  upon  the  weighty  wealth  of 
Hawthorn  set  amid  knee-deep  meadows  of  Butter- 
cups and  Parsnips ;  for  the  rare  witchery  of  it  all 
is  unmistakable.  I  would  leave  it  as  it  stands  : 
British  par  excellence^  unrivalled  for  quiet  pros- 
perity, for  unique  felicity.  Nor  would  I  tamper 
with  the  wealth  of  Primrose  copse,  or  attempt  to 
meddle  with  the  woods  of  Bluebells,  Daffodils,  and 
Foxgloves.  To  do  any  such  thing  would  be  purest 
sacrilege — and  a  wild  conceit  into  the  bargain ! 
No,  no  ;  there  is  much,  very  much  in  Britain's 
countryside  that  rightly  stands  in  the  front  rank 
of  Nature's  happiest  creations,  and  it  were  mad 
impertinence  to  think  to  oust  it  or  to  improve  it 
by  inept  additions.  But  these  front-rank  marvels 
are  not  everywhere.  Many  is  the  spot  that  might 
Reasonably  be  bettered ;  many  the  wayside  field, 
copse,  bank,  or  railway- cutting  that  would  repay 
us  for  a  little  help  ;  and  it  is  in  such  places  {paocy 
O  Farmer!  have  I  not  gone  round  to  avoid 
treading  on  your  property  ?) — it  is  with  regard  to 
such  places  that  I  do  suggest  we  might  take  a 
leaf  from  Nature's  Alpine  book. 

But  why,  some  will  ask — why  interfere  with  our 
indigenous  field-flowers,  and  thus  with  our  pure- 


btant  think  that  in  M:.  . 

.*  e   (!ouid  improve  upon  the   weighty  wealth 
U  rnvthorn  set  amid  knee-deep 

iijT>s  MTi/--?  i^--!  i'tM-iirjc  •  Trif  ■i^jg  rare   i» 
is  '  .!    leave  i; 

led   for 


uhhI  ,  Datt'oci 

ARNICA,    the    Brown    Gentian    (G.  purpurea), 

CAMPANULA  BARBATA,^nd  the  fiery 

Vo,  little     HIERACIUM     AURANTIACUM, 

painted  from  life  in  the  fields  towards  the       ,.,  ..i. 
middle  of  July. 


impertinence 
by  inept 


nc] 


copse,  bank,  or  rail^  it  would  repjy 

us  for  a  littlr  '     -  i   n  i>  in  ;^uch  place> 

O    F'^rr^ier !  not    gone    round   t< 

.our  property  ?) — it  is  with  re: 
I   do  suggest  we  might 
Alpine  boolr. 


ALPINE  FIELDS  FOR  ENGLAND  153 

bred  English  fields;  why  cause  anything  so 
individual  to  become  mongrel  ?  And  this  sounds 
plausible  until  we  examine  the  pedigree  of  some  of 
our  "  indigenous  "  flowers,  and  find  that  they  are 
*'  doubtful  natives,"  and  owe  their  presence  among 
us  to  the  Roman  invader  or  are  "escapes  from 
cultivation."  Precedent  is  therefore  on  our  side. 
Then  why  should  not  we  of  this  twentieth  century 
do  as  did  the  Romans  for  Britain— only  with  a 
little  more  method,  not  trusting  to  the  seed 
of  Alpine  field-flowers  coming  inadvertently  to 
England  in  our  portmanteaux,  our  boots,  or  our 
hair  ?  We  ought  not  to  be  afraid  of  the  in- 
evitable trend  of  things  towards  a  more  general, 
more  common  aspect.  We  may  well  nurse  some 
particular  individuality  so  long  as  it  is  eminently 
useful,  but  at  the  same  time  we  should  leave 
our  judgment  open  with  regard  to  accretion,  or, 
as  the  dictionary  calls  it,  "increase  by  natural 
growth."  Insularity  is  a  disappearing  quantity, 
and  there  surely  will  and  must  come  a  time  when 
we  shall  chiefly  hear  of  it  from  books  of  ancient 
history  and  scandalous  Memoii^es. 

But  if  for  the  present  we  cannot  bring  ourselves 
to  continue  systematically  the  work  of  the  Romans, 
let  us  at  least  take  in  hand  some  of  the  field-plants 


154  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

we  have  already  with  us,  and  induce  them  to 
become  more  general  and  abundant.  Even  in  that 
way  we  should  approach  to  something  of  Alpine 
prodigality  ;  for  there  is  quite  a  goodly  nimiber 
of  British  plants  among  the  colour-giving  subjects 
of  an  Alpine  meadow.  There  is,  for  instance, 
Creranium  sylvaticum  (the  rose  or  blue-mauve 
Wood  Crane's-bill),  rare,  and  found  mostly  upon 
pastures  in  the  north ;  or  there  is  Astrantia 
major  (the  pinky-green-and-white  Masterwort),  an 
"  escape,"  near  Ludlow  and  Malvern  ;  or  Phyteuma 
spicata  (the  cream-coloured  Rampion),  found  only 
in  Sussex ;  or  Salvia  pratensis  (the  rich-blue 
Meadow  Clary),  scarce,  and  confined  to  fields  in 
Kent,  Oxfordshire,  and  Cornwall ;  or  Polemonium 
cceruleum  (the  blue  Jacob's  Ladder  or  Greek 
Valerian),  rare,  and  confined  to  the  north  of 
England.  Why  should  not  such  as  these  be 
brought  from  out  their  hiding  and  be  induced 
to  people  propitious  places  in  a  more  abundant 
way? 

No  sooner,  however,  does  "  sweet  reasonable- 
ness "  begin  to  dawn  upon  our  imaginations,  and 
we  commence  to  take  kindly  to  our  idea,  than 
we  are  confronted  by  the  irate  farmer — hasty  and 
nervous  lest  we  and  our  "  weeds "   have  designs 


ALPINE  FIELDS  FOR  ENGLAND  155 

upon  his  domain — upbraiding  us  for  daring  to 
suggest  such  palpably  bad  farming.  But  we  have 
no  intent  to  meddle  with  his  meadows.  Yet  if  we 
had,  what  answer  can  we  make  him  ?  Is  it  of  any 
use  for  us  to  point  to  Swiss  experience  of  flowery 
pastures,  telling  him  that  the  finest  cheeses — those 
of  Gruyere  and  Emmenthal — are  made  on  the 
middle  or  lower  "  alpen,"  and  that,  in  fact,  they 
come  from  fields  which  are  literally  crammed  with 
lovely  flowering  plants  ?  Is  it  of  any  use  assuring 
him  that  cows  fed  on  the  comparatively  flowerless 
fields  of  Fully,  for  example,  opposite  JNIartigny  in 
the  Rhone  Valley,  give  not  only  less,  but  less  rich 
milk  than  those  fed  on  the  fields  of  Chemin, 
Chables,  or  Champex,  and  that,  whenever  possible, 
the  flowerless  hay  goes  to  the  horses  ?  Is  it  of  any 
use  pointing  out  these  facts  to  our  scandalised 
friend  ?  Possibly  not.  Possibly  he  will  retort : 
"  Necessity  makes  high  use  of  just  whatsoever  is 
within  reach  ;  other  lands  other  ways  ;  circumstance 
creates  ideals."  And  quite  possibly  he  will  be 
right. 

But  whatever  may  be  said  in  disparagement  of 
the  introduction  of  Alpine  plants  into  England's 
fields  in  general,  little  or  no  objection  can  be  made 


156    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALFLNE  SWITZERLAND 

to  fields  of  such  plants  as  adjuncts  to  Alpine  rock- 
gardens,  or  as  embellishments  to  park  and 
pleasaunce.  Here  we  are  in  a  domain  which  is 
"  orthodoxly "  regarded  as  aesthetic,  and  not  as 
practical  or  utilitarian.  And,  after  all,  we  had  best 
begin  by  the  thin  end  of  the  wedge — we  had 
best  commence  with  these  flower-fields  as  a 
"  luxury  "  ;  afterwards — as  is  quite  likely — we  may 
be  able  to  chronicle  "escapes"  into  the  general 
scheme  of  the  countryside. 

I  can  think  of  no  feature  of  the  Alpine  land- 
scape which  could  add  so  much  charm  and  interest 
to  English  Alpine  gardens  as  an  Alpine  meadow, 
and  it  is  no  mean  matter  for  surprise  that  this 
feature  has  not  so  far  claimed  the  attention  it 
most  assuredly  merits.  Moreover,  an  Alpine  rock- 
garden  shorn  of  its  meadow-setting  is  less  than 
a  picture  devoid  of  its  frame.  Can  any  one  who 
knows  the  Alps  imagine  what  they  and  their  rock- 
flora  would  be  without  the  fields  and  grassy  slopes  ? 
Would  there  be  the  same  widespread  and  im- 
mediate interest  ?  It  is  inconceivable,  for  these 
fields  and  slopes  are,  as  it  were,  the  exquisitely 
sumptuous  hall  through  which,  amazed  and  won- 
dering, we  pass  to  gain  the  rudeness  and  refine- 
ment of  Alpine  asceticism  proper. 


ALPINE   FIELDS   FOR   ENGLAND  157 

Then  there  is  another  and,  I  think,  a  crying 
reason  for  the  creation  of  fields  to  supplement  our 
rockworks  ;  we  garden  at  present,  for  the  most  part, 
as  if  all  Alpines  were  rock-plants,  whereas  quite  an 
important  percentage  are  purely  field-flowers.  It 
will  be  said  that  in  England's  comparatively 
luxurious  climate  the  grasses  would  overwhelm 
the  Alpines  and  that,  therefore,  it  is  only  wise 
to  place  these  latter  out  of  harm's  way.  But, 
although  there  certainly  are  some  subjects  of  an 
Alpine  meadow  which  could  scarcely  be  expected 
to  grapple  successfully  with  English  conditions, 
yet  there  is  a  whole  host  that  could  do  so,  especially 
if  care  were  taken  to  choose  suitable  grasses  and 
to  exclude  certain  English  weeds  (the  Field  Bind- 
weed, for  example,  or  the  Plantain).  In  advocating 
any  such  adoption  as  the  present,  we  must  not 
be  so  unphilosophic  as  to  be  sweeping  and  dog- 
matic ;  we  must  be  quick  to  recognise  that  such 
subjects  of  the  Alpine  grass-lands  as  Viola  calcarata 
and  Gentiana  verna,  excisa,  and  nivalis  shall  of 
necessity  be  ushered  to  the  rockwork  when  they 
arrive  in  our  island  home.  But,  frankly,  I  be- 
lieve there  are  many  of  these  plants  which  would 
be  altogether  grateful  to  find  themselves  in  a  field 
rather  than  in  a  garden-border  or  upon  a  rockery. 


158  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Will  any  one  deny  that  a  plant  which,  in  a  wild, 
free  state,  invariably  chooses  to  dwell  upon  the 
meadows  is  not  more  at  home  there  than  when 
robbed  of  such  pressing,  self-sought  company  ? 
Will  any  one  deny  that,  for  instance.  Campanula 
rhomhoidalis,  Paradisia  L,iliastrum,  Salvia  pratensis. 
Narcissus  poeticus,  Veratrum  album,  or  Phyteuma 
betonicifolium  are  not  infinitely  happier  when  grow- 
ing together  in  close  company  with  grasses  than 
when  standing  in  select  isolation  upon  the  rockery 
or  the  garden-border  ? 

Possibly  it  will  be  argued  that  these  field -plants 
show  themselves  so  much  better  on  the  border  or 
the  rockwork.  But  do  they  ?  Does  Colchicum, 
for  example,  look  better  against  the  brown  earth  of 
a  border  than  upon  a  thick-set  carpet  of  green  ? 
Does  Veronica  spicata  ever  look  better  than  when 
seen  upon  the  fields  of  the  Alps  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  the  Meadow-Orchids  are  not  at  their  best 
among  the  grasses  ?  For  my  own  part,  I  find 
many  of  these  plants  look  thin  and  lonesome  when 
carefully  set  apart  "  to  do  themselves  full  justice." 
In  nature  they  are  items  in  a  rich  reciprocal 
scheme  of  intimacy,  and  in  this  assuredly  is  their 
truest  happiness  ;  therefore,  as  part  of  this  scheme 
they  must  certainly  be  seen  at  their  best.  Snatched 


ALPINE  FIELDS   FOR   ENGLAND  159 

from  their  social  birthright  and  perched  in  grandeur 
upon  a  rockwork,  they  cannot  but  have  wistful 
thoughts  of  lost  companionship. 

Owners  of  rockworks  may  protest  that  they  do 
all  they  possibly  can  for  their  captives,  treating 
them  as  tenderly  as  they  would  any  beautiful  bird 
in  a  cage  ;  they  may  protest  that  their  captives  are 
fed  and  watered  most  carefully  and  know  little  or 
nothing  of  the  struggle  for  existence  which  rules 
upon  Alpine  meadows.  And  this  is  all  very  right 
and  proper  as  far  as  it  goes  ;  but  very  many  of 
these  plants  could  be  treated  even  more  kindly  and 
properly  by  allowing  them  something  of  their 
ancestral  habits.  That  which  untrammelled  Nature 
decrees  for  her  offspring  is  inevitably  best,  and  we 
should  take  practical  note  of  it  where  possible. 
We  ourselves  are  rebels  and,  as  modern  instance 
shows,  are  very  conscious  of  it  in  our  more  rational 
moments,  crying  aloud  in  a  hazy,  frightened  way, 
that  we  must  "  get  back  to  Nature  ! "  Why,  then, 
compel  rebeUion  in  so  many  a  thing  we  admire  ? 
Such  compulsory  estrangement  from  what  is 
natural  is  a  sorry  sort  of  kindness.  Let  us  put 
back  the  field-flowers  into  the  fields— or,  at  any 
rate,  as  many  as  we  may. 

To  a  great  number  of  flower-lovers  this  would 


160  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

be  a  much  simpler  matter  than  the  building  and 
tending  of  rockworks  (though,  of  course,  the  ideal 
should  be  for  the  field  to  companion  or  environ  the 
rockery).  It  would  be  less  complicated,  and  it 
would  not  entail  such  a  variety  of  specialist  know- 
ledge. Many  of  a  kind,  and  each  kind  robust  and, 
for  the  most  part,  ordinary — that  should  be  the 
rule  among  the  plants  for  our  Alpine  meadow. 
Fractious,  exigent  rarities  would  naturally  not  be 
welcome.  Fields  are  perhaps  loveliest  when  planned 
upon  broad  lines.  There  is  no  need  to  make 
extraordinary  efforts  to  find  sports  and  forms ;  no 
need  to  do  more  than  Nature  does — here  and  there 
a  white  or  porcelain-grey  Campanula  rhomhoidalis^ 
here  and  there  a  pale-pink  Gei-anium  sylvaticum, 
here  and  there  a  white  Salvia  pratensis,  here  and 
there  a  white  Colchicuin  autum.nale.  Forms  and 
sports  and  vagaries  are  all  very  well,  but  in  these 
meadows  it  is  the  type-plant  which  counts.  A 
field  of  Salvia,  Campanula,  and  Geranium  is  blue 
and  mauve  ;  that  is  the  general  effect,  and  varia- 
tion from  it  rarely  counts  in  the  colour-scheme. 
Eccentricity  we  may  keep  for  the  proud  eminence 
of  our  rockworks. 

If  it  is  not  possible  to  transplant  to  the  plains 


should  be  for  the  fielu 

It  would    t)c 


liff. 


The  tall  yellow  HYPOCHCERIS  UNI  FLORA 
CENTAUREA  UNIFLORA,  the  Golden 
a  WitsL..  Hawkweed  (Crepis  aiirea)  drawn  from 
here  a?v      ''^^  '"  the  July  fields. 


rarely 


ALPINE   FIELDS   FOR  ENGLAND  161 

the  clean,  invigorating  air  which  goes  so  far  to 
form  the  joy  exhaled  of  Alpine  meadows ;  if  we 
may  not  lay  on  the  wonderful  atmosphere  of  the 
Alps  as  we  may  the  ozone  from  the  seaside, — we 
can  at  least  take  the  flowers,  those  brilliant  children 
of  the  Alpine  ether,  and  thus  help  materially 
towards  mountain  purity  in  our  parks  and  gardens. 
Some  of  the  gaiety  might  be  lost  in  the  process — 
some  of  that  intensity  of  colouring  which  steals 
over  the  very  grass  as  it  climbs  the  mountain-side 
and  encroaches  upon  the  kingdom  of  the  Rhodo- 
dendron. Astrantia  mcLJor  might  lose  its  rosy- 
magenta  •  blush  and  assume  a  more  or  less  livid 
green-white  ;  Lychnis,  Geranium,  and  Salvia  might 
lack  something  of  their  Alpine  lustre  ;  a  certain 
mildness  might  reign  generally  in  the  place  of 
mountain  briskness ;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  loss 
to  the  flowers  would  be  small  and  the  gain  to  the 
garden  or  the  landscape  immense,  and  we  should 
find  that  we  had  annexed  much  of  the  charm  and 
joy  of  Alpine  days — 

"  Days  lit  with  the  flume  of  the  lamps  of  the  flowers." 


11 


CHAPTER  XII 


SOME    WAYS    AND    MEANS 


"  No  gardener  has  made  experiments,  however  small,  in  the  forma- 
tion of  a  rock  garden  and  the  culture  of  Alpine  plants  without  bringing 
a  new  gladness  to  himself  and  others." — S.  Reynolds  Hole^  A  Book 
About  the  Garden. 

For  such  as  wish  to  set  about  creating  an  Alpine 
meadow,  either  as  an  attractive  feature  of  their 
pleasure-grounds  or — which  is  more  to  the  point 
— as  a  completing  part  of  their  rock-garden,  let 
me  at  once  say  that  this  volume  is  no  detailed 
vade  mecum,  and  that,  for  the  cultural  requirements 
of  the  plants  mentioned,  recourse  must  be  had  to 
the  many  good  books  already  dealing  with  that 
phase  of  the  subject.  All  that  is  pretended  here  is 
to  point  the  way  to  a  much-neglected  path  in 
Alpine  circumstance  and  to  attempt  to  arouse  the 
necessary  enthusiasm  for  its  better  and  more  just 
appreciation,  incidentally  indicating  what  may  be 
novel   in    its   aspect    and   untouched   by   Alpine- 

162 


SOME  WAYS   AND  MEANS  163 

gardening  books.  To  this  end,  then,  I  would  try- 
to  conjure  up  a  representative  field  or  meadow  of 
the  Alps.  But,  before  doing  so,  let  me  impress 
upon  the  reader  that,  not  only  will  it  be  no  Alpine 
field  in  the  popular  sense,  but  that  we  may 
occasionally  have  to  descend  even  to  the  fields  of 
the  Swiss  plain  in  order  to  find  one  or  two  subjects 
which  we  can  use  with  advantage  to  enrich  our 
scheme — plants  such  as  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  and 
Scilla  biJ'oUa.  The  Swiss  plains  lie  high  when 
judged  by  English  standards ;  rarely,  if  ever,  do 
they  fall  below  some  1,200  feet. 

The  field  I  have  in  my  mind's  eye  as  1  write 
these  lines  is  one  which,  "  with  its  early  and 
exquisite  diversities  of  form  and  colour" — to  quote 
again  from  Dean  Hole's  little  book — "  is  a  new 
and  large  delight."  It  is  one  in  which  the  bulbs, 
hundreds  upon  hundreds  in  number  and  about  five 
in  kind,  burst  into  life  with  the  grass  in  the  first 
days  of  spring.  White  and  purple  Crocus  vernuSy 
rosy  Crocus-like  Bulbocodium  vernum,  and  yellow 
(^agea  are  the  first-comers,  quickly  followed  by  the 
golden  Daffodil  {Narcissus  Pseudo-narcissus),  the 
bright  blue  Scilla  bifolia,  the  green-and-white  Star 
of  Bethlehem  {Oruithogalum  urnbellatum)  and  its 


164    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

handsome  large-flowered  relative,  O.  nutans.  Then, 
following  close  upon  the  Violet,  Cowslip,  and  Ox- 
lip,  come  the  earlier  of  the  Orchids — Oi^Jiis  Morio, 
O.  viascula,  and  O.  viaculata.  A  little  later  Myoso- 
tis  sylvestris  spreads  a  blue  haze  over  the  field, 
aiding  most  admirably  the  lively  pink  of  Orchis 
{Gyjuiiadenia)  conopsea,  and  rendering  the  appear- 
ance of  Paradisia  Liliastrum,  the  paper-white 
Paradise  Lily,  daintier  than  ever.  And  now  I 
see  a  glorious  multitude  of  Pheasant-eye  Narcissus 
{Narcissus  poeticus),  with  here  and  there  a  tall, 
deep  blue  or  purple  Columbine.  Lemon-yellow 
Biscutella  Icevigata,  too,  clear-blue  Linum  alpinum, 
and  white  Potentilla  rupestiis  blend  their  blossoms 
to  produce  a  lovely  harmony  in  true  spring-like 
key.  Muscai^i  comosum  throws  up  its  curious  blue- 
purple  spikes,  over-topped  by  the  white  sprays  of 
Anthericum  Liliago.  And  in  the  moister  part  of 
the  meadow  I  see  great  colonies  of  Ranunculus 
aconitifolius  and  the  yellow  Globe-Flower  ( TroJHus 
europcmis)  sown  in  most  happy  manner  with  our 
Ragged-Robin  {Lychnis  Flos-cuculi),  presently  to 
be  joined  by  bright-pink  regiments  of  Bistort  or 
Snakeweed  {Polygonum  Bistorta).  And  then,  when 
Centaurea  montana,  accompanied  by  Geranium 
sylvaticum,   Salvia   pratensis.  Lychnis   dioica    (the 


SOME  WAYS   AND   MEANS  165 

Red  Catchfly),  Silene  Cucubalus  (the  Bladder 
Campion),  and  Polemonium  cceruleum  usher  in  the 
summer,  the  field  is  rich  indeed  in  blue,  mauve, 
lilac,  red,  and  pink,  with  a  distinct  leaning  towards 
blue,  mauve,  and  lilac.  And  these  colours  seem  to 
hold  their  own  to  the  end.  White  may  come  with 
the  Ox-eye  Daisy  {Chrysanthemum  leucanthemum) 
and  the  many  Umbelliferee ;  red  may  come  with 
brilliant  Centaurea  unijiora  and  crimson  C.  nigra, 
the  common  Hard-head  ;  yellow  may  come  with 
tall  Hypochoeris  unijiora  and  such  Buttercups 
as  Ranunculus  bulbosus  and  R.  acris,  but  blue  and 
mauve  and  lilac  seem  always  to  predominate ;  for 
the  Ilampions  {Phyteuma  betonicccfolium  and 
P.  orbiculare)  and  Campanulas  (C  rotundifolia 
and  C  7'homboidaUs)  join  forces  with  the  Meadow 
Clary  and  the  Wood  Crane's-bill  and  linger  on 
until  the  Martagon  Lily  is  gone  out  of  flower  and 
the  field  stands  more  than  ready  for  the  scythe. 
Indeed,  long  after  the  scythe  has  done  its  worst, 
and  Colchicum  autumnalc  is  a  thing  of  yesterday, 
and  autumn's  fires  have  paled,  and 

"The  few  late  flowers  have  moisture  in  the  eye," 
those  flowers,  or  the  major  portion  of  those  flowers, 
will   be    blue   and   mauve   and   lilac — Campanula, 
Geranium,  and  Salvia. 


166   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

A  field  such  as  this  is  a  garden  in  itself,  and  a 
revelation,  surely,  for  those  who  know  only  our 
home-fields.  And  it  will  be  noted  that  in  such  a 
field  there  need  be  no  destruction  of  effective 
English  field-flowers.  Indeed,  the  addition  of 
Alpine  wealth  to  our  home-fields  ought  not  to 
oust  any  but  rank  invaders,  such  as  the  Plantain, 
the  Nettle,  or  the  Bindweed,  or  other  "  volunteers," 
as  Californians  picturesquely  call  them.  Our 
Buttercups,  Daisies,  Orchids,  and  Red  Sorrel 
should  be  secure ;  Dandelions  and  Ox-eye  Mar- 
guerites can,  and  should,  continue  their  reign  as  of 
yore  ;  for  all  of  these  are  constituents  of  meadows 
in  the  Alps.  Thus,  if  we  create  meadows  to  com- 
panion our  rockworks,  we  should  be  growing  many 
an  Alpine  which  at  present  we  do  not  allow  among 
our  Alpines ;  and  in  this  way,  if  in  no  other,  our 
Alpine  gardens  would  be  far  more  complete,  far 
more  representative,  and,  therefore,  far  more  worthy 
the  name. 

No ;  because  a  flower  is  already  common  in 
England  is  no  necessary  reason  why  it  should 
be  taboo  in  any  Alpine  field  we  may  create  in 
England.  Indeed,  such  common  things  as  the 
Marsh  Marigold  {Caltha  palustris),  the  two  Butter- 
cups {Ranicncidus  acris  and  R.  bulbosus)  and  the 


SOME   WAYS  AND   MEANS  167 

Bladder  Campion  {Silcne  Cucubalus)  are  most 
precious.  Who  that  has  seen  the  JNlarsh  Marigold 
pencilling  with  golden  lines  the  course  of  some 
mountain  rivulet  through  the  spring  fields,  and 
lying,  with  Primula  farinosa,  a  brilliant  mass,  in 
some  juicy  hollow;  or  the  two  Buttercups,  blending 
with  acres  of  Rammculus  aconitifoUus,  and  forming 
a  filmy  sea  of  yellow  and  white  ;  or  slopes  packed 
with  the  Bladder  Campion  and  the  tall  Rampion 
{Phyfeufiia  betonicccfolium),  a  perfect  picture  of 
grey- white  and  blue, — who  that  has  seen  these 
common  flowers  thus  growing  but  has  not  vowed 
rarity  to  be  no  essential  passport  to  the  ranks  of 
beauty  ?  I  remember  once — it  was  at  IMontroc, 
near  the  Col  des  Montets — passing  over  a  meadow- 
slope  of  Bladder  Campion  and  Kampion,  with  just 
a  sprinkling  of  that  other  and  closely  allied  Cam- 
pion, Sllene  nutans  (the  Nottingham  Catchfly), 
and  the  effect  so  fascinated  me,  as  to  send  up 
these  Campions  considerably  in  my  esteem,  as 
subjects  with  decorative  possibilities  of  which  I 
had  not  dreamed. 

Objection  may  possibly  be  taken  to  the  large 
area  required  for  the  creation  of  an  Alpine  meadow 
in  comparison  with  its  short  duration  as  "  a  thing 
of  beauty."     It  will  perhaps  be  objected  that  our 


168   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPLNE  SWITZERLAND 

field  must  be  mown ;  that  the  ripening  growth 
cannot  be  allowed  "  to  lie  in  cold  obstruction  and 
to  rot " ;  that,  from  July  to  the  end  of  the  year, 
the  field  will  be  a  stubbly  place  of  emptiness, 
whereas  our  rockwork  will  bear  a  continual  round 
of  interest  until  the  coming  of  the  frost.  And 
this  complaint  would  be  reasonable  if  we  were 
dealing  with  just  an  English  meadow  set  with 
certain  Alpine  plants  to  make  it  gayer  than  is  its 
habit.  But  we  are  not — not,  that  is  to  say,  if  we 
are  contemplating  the  meadow  as  a  companioning 
feature  of  our  rock-garden.  A  typical  Alpine 
meadow  is  full  of  "  accident " ;  there  is  nothing  of 
the  billiard- table  about  its  eventful  surface.  Palp- 
ably, it  must  have  been  the  scene  of  utmost  violence 
before  Nature  decked  it  out  with  verdure.  Steep 
depressions ;  wide  gullies ;  abrupt  limits,  falling 
suddenly  away  in  a  grassless,  rocky  bank  to  a 
rough  path  below, — such  "  accidents "  as  these 
break  its  even  tenor.  Rocks,  grey  and  lichen- 
flecked,  crop  up  from  it  here  and  there — rocks 
hurled  in  some  past  fury  from  the  heights  above 
or  borne  from  afar  upon  the  breast  of  some  ancient 
glacier  ;  for  an  Alpine  field,  more  often  than  not, 
is  a  delightful  combination  of  rockwork  and  pas- 
ture.    Hence  there  is  accommodation  for  a  much 


>\T(T  oc*   «^     norn ! 


GENTIANA  CAMPESTRIS  and  GENTIANA 
BAVARICA. 


y  irora 
i-\  ..  \ 


JB^^^^Ml  '''^k.   ^^         'I'M/ .-3 

■^^^ 

j^ 

/ 

SOME   WAYS   AND  MEANS  169 

wider  range  of  plant-life  than  in  a  meadow  run 
upon  English  lines,  and  the  season  of  interest  is, 
therefore,  as  long-lived  as  that  of  any  part  of  our 
garden.  "  Accident,"  indeed,  is  the  constant  charac- 
teristic of  it,  and  floral  variety  the  natural  corollary. 
When  the  hay  has  been  made  upon  the  richer 
portions  of  it,  the  poorer  or  more  broken  parts  and 
the  rocks  continue  to  abound  in  blossom,  giving 
us  such  things  as  the  Thalictrums,  IMonkshoods, 
Peas,  Veronicas,  Pinks,  Saxifrages,  Sempervivums, 
and  Sedums. 

When,  therefore,  we  choose  the  parcel  of  ground 
to  be  transformed  into  a  Swiss  mountain  meadow, 
we  should  not  be  dismayed  if  its  surface  is  already 
more  than  undulating ;  we  should  not  summon 
assistance  to  level  it  up  and  smooth  it  out.  We 
are  not  proposing  to  make  a  croquet-lawn,  but 
are  supposed  to  be  inspired  by  Nature  in  one  of 
her  wild,  "  irresponsible  "  moods.  Violence,  how- 
ever, should  depend  upon  size.  If  we  are  dealing 
with  several  acres,  we  can  afford  to  be  grand 
with  regard  to  "  accident " ;  but  if  the  land  at 
our  disposal  is,  perhaps,  half  an  acre,  irregularity 
should  be  to  scale ;  for  to  be  artistic  we  should 
avoid  extravagance. 

Rocks,  as  has  been  said,  are  an  almost  essential 


170  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

feature  of  an  Alpine  field.  The  ground  should 
rise  towards  them  and  should  be  of  a  poorer 
nature  than  where  the  grass  is  to  be  really 
meadowy  ;  for  upon  the  poorer  ground  we  shall 
be  dependent  for  many  colonies  of  gay  and 
interesting  plants  which  would  be  out  of  place, 
even  they  could  exist,  among  the  thicker  grasses. 
Here  we  may  count  upon  brilliance  long  after 
the  Geranium  and  its  field-consorts  have  been 
mown  down — brilliance  afforded  by  such  subjects 
as  Onofds  natrix,  Linum  tenuifolium,  L.  alpinum, 
Jasione  montana,  Campaiiula  spicata  C.  barbata, 
C.  persicifolia,  Trifolium  alpinum,  Erynglum 
alpinum,  Vicia  onobrychioides,  Veronica  urticoe- 
folia,  Lathyrus  lieterophyllus,  AnthyUis  vulneraria, 
Carduus  dejloraUts,  Ferbascum  phlomoides,  and 
Onobi^ycliis  vicioefolia,  the  rosy  Sainfoin  or  "  whole- 
some hay,"  for  which  the  ass  is  said  to  bray. 

The  rocks  employed  ought,  in  greater  part, 
to  be  of  a  "  generous "  nature,  not  hard  and  un- 
responsive. They  should  if  possible  be  even  soft 
(as  rocks  go)  and  somewhat  liable  to  disintegration 
— rocks  upon  which,  with  a  little  preliminary 
encouragement,  Sedums,  Dianthus,  and  Semper- 
vivums  can  take  root.  They  ought  not  to  be 
built  up  to  form  what  is  generally  recognised  as 


SOME   WAYS  AND   MEANS  171 

a  rockwork,  but  should  be  large,  massive,  and 
sparsely  set,  cropping  up  from  the  ground  hap- 
hazard and  as  if  their  greater  bulk  were  beneath 
the  soil.  Grass  should  be  encouraged  to  grow 
about  them,  even  upon  them  in  places  ;  and  Foa 
alpiiia,  forma  vivipcn^a  is  a  suitable,  as  well  as 
a  most  interesting,  grass  for  this  purpose.  The 
Alpine  Clover,  too  {Trefolium  alpinum),  may 
well  be  encouraged  to  spread  around  the  base  of 
these  rocks  and  over  the  ground  that  slopes  up 
to  them.  With  its  large,  loose,  rosy  flower- 
heads,  sometimes  Avhite  or  lilac,  it  is  an  ever- 
welcome  June  visitor,  especially  where  it  luxuriates  ; 
as,  for  instance,  at  Le  Planet,  below  the  French 
side  of  the  Col  de  Balme. 

I  have  said  that  the  rocks  ought,  in  gi'cater 
part,  to  be  of  a  "  generous "  nature ;  and  I  have 
said  this  because  a  hard  and  unresponsive  rock 
here  and  there  would  not  be  out  of  place. 
Although  quantity  equally  with  quality  is  the 
predominant  note  in  Alpine  floral  circumstance, 
it  is  not  an  invariable  rule,  and  something  of 
barrenness  only  adds  to  the  scene  of  plenty. 
Moreover,  a  cold,  bare  rock  with  just  one  cleft 
in  it  where  some  single  tuft  of  Dianthus,  or  of 
Veronica  saooatilis,  for  instance,  can  chng  is  often 


172   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

a  very  precious  object  amid  a  surrounding  ex- 
uberance of  blossom.  Often  in  English  rock- 
gardens  there  is  too  little  unoccupied  rock. 
Ubiquity  of  plant  life  in  this  respect  is  not  so 
artistic  as  when  there  is  a  modicum  of  reticence  ; 
nor  is  it  so  truthful. 

Another  by  no  means  inappropriate  feature   is 
that  which  can  be  lent  by  shrubs  or  bushes ;  not 
as   hedges,  for  Switzerland,  when  compared  with 
England,  may  be  said  to  be  devoid  of 
"...  Little  lines 
Of  sportive  wood  run  wild." 

Characteristic  commonplaces  in  England,  where,  it 
is  said,  they  cover  one  and  a  half  million  acres,  they 
are  rare  in  Switzerland  ;  or,  at  any  rate,  as  Leslie 
Stephen  remarked,  "those  detestable  parallelo- 
grams, which  cut  up  English  scenery  with  their 
hedgerows,  are  sternly  confined  to  the  valley."  And 
in  the  valley  they  are  comparatively  scarce,  and  lack 
the  charm  pertaining  to  the  English  hedgerow. 

No ;  if  our  field  is  to  have  an  Alpine  allure, 
hedges  must  be  tabu.  But  a  negligent  grouping 
around  the  rocks  or  upon  the  outskirts  of  the 
field,  of  such  bushes  as  Rhododendron  ferrugineum, 
Rosa  alpina,  Berberis  vulgaris,  Rosa  'pomifera, 
Juniperus  nana,  Sambucus  racemosa,  and  the  two 


SOME   WAYS   AND   MEANS  173 

Honeysuckles,  Lonicera  alpigena  and  L.  nigra, 
would  not  only  enhance  the  effect  and  interest,  but 
would  tally  with  Nature  as  she  generally  rules 
in  the  Alps.  Nor  would  the  Bird  Cherry  {Prunus 
avium),  if  kept  in  bush  form,  be  out  of  place. 
This  lovely  spring-flowering  tree,  treated  as  a 
hedgerow  subject  on  the  plateau  at  the  back  of 
Lausanne,  is  an  arresting  object  in  the  fields 
around  Chamonix  at  the  end  of  May.  And 
here,  with  the  shade  and  shelter  of  such  bushes, 
may  come  the  nobly  plumed  Goat's  Beard  [Spiraea 
A7mncus),  the  mauve  and  the  cream-plumed 
Thaiictrum  aquilegifoUum,  the  deep-blue  Aconitum 
napellus,  the  violet-blue  A.  paiiiculatwn,  the 
creamy-white  A.  Lycodonuvi,  the  rosy  Adenostyles 
aUnfrons,  the  ever-graceful  Solomon's  Seal  {Poly- 
gonatuvi  verticillatum),  the  blue-mauve  Mul- 
gedium  alpinum,  the  red-brown  Liliimi  Martagon, 
the  brilliant  orange  L.  croceum,  the  pale-yellow 
Salvia  glutinosa,  the  golden  Lathyrus  luteus,  the 
pink  and  feathery  Dianthus  superbus,  the  Fennel- 
like Mann  athamanticum,  the  distinctive  Um- 
bellifer,  Laserpitium  latifolium,  besides  such  Orchids 
as  Epipactis  atrorubens,  E.  latifolia,  Cephalanthera 
en.fifolia,  C.  palleiis,  C.  rubra,  and  Habenaria 
( Plantauthera)  dilorantha. 


174   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

If  we  are  to  have  some  kind  of  boundary- 
mark  to  our  field,  let  it  be  by  preference  a  low, 
mortarless  wall  of  fairly  large  rough  stones  or 
pieces  of  rock  built  up  with  earth — a  sort  of 
rockwork  wall.  These  walls  may  be  met  with 
almost  anywhere  in  the  Swiss  mountains,  and 
are  frequently  composed  of  fragments  of  rock 
which  at  one  time  and  another  have  been  strewn 
about  the  fields  by  rockfalls  or  avalanches.  They 
often  become  the  home  of  brilliant  masses  of 
such  plants  as  Sa'ponaria  ocymoides,  Silene  rupes- 
tiis,  Gypsophila  rep  ens,  Helianthemum  vulgar  e, 
Arabis  alpina,  Calamintha  alpina,  and  Cerastium 
alpinum,  thus  adding  considerably  to  the  gaiety 
and  charm  of  the  fields — a  gaiety  and  charm 
which  in  the  case  of  these  walls  lasts  well  into 
the  autumn. 

Some  difficulty  may  be  experienced  over  the 
grass  which  is  to  accompany  the  meadow-flowers. 
Indeed,  it  is  an  objection  usually  raised  whenever 
I  have  broached  the  subject  of  Alpine  fields  to 
gardening  enthusiasts ;  they  fear  that  English 
meadow-grass  would  overwhelm  the  stranger- 
flowers  by  leaving  them  no  room  to  breathe.  But 
is  not  this  obstacle  one  rather  of  hasty  imagining 
than   of  reality?     We  are  not  proposing  to  put 


SOME   WAYS   AND   MEANS  175 

Viola  alpina,  Gentiaiia  verna,  or  the  Soldanella 
into  the  field.  Moreover,  there  are  grasses  and 
grasses ;  and  I  beheve  a  very  suitable  selection 
could  be  made  from  any  of  the  leading  seed- 
merchants.  I  should  suggest  that  the  ground  be 
sown  with  smaller,  daintier  grasses,  and  ojily  after 
the  flowering-plants  have  become  more  or  less 
established ;  and  I  imagine  that  if  this  were  done — 
and  a  sharp  eye  kept  for  the  ever-ready  invasion 
by  native  weeds — the  imported  field-fiowers  would 
hold  their  own. 

An  interesting  fact  in  connection  with  Alpine 
fields — one  that  should  not  be  copied  in  England — 
is  the  tendency  of  what  is  usually  shade-loving 
vegetation  to  creep  out  into  the  sunlight.  In  spite 
of  the  intensity  and  power  of  the  sun's  rays,  even 
certain  ferns,  such  as  Aspidium  Lonchitis,  the 
Holly-fern,  ai^;^  Polystichum  Filix-vias,  seem  to 
think  nothing  of  basking  upon  the  hottest  slopes. 
True,  their  roots  are  generally  sheltered  by  rock 
and  stone,  but  the  fronds  look  the  sun  squarely 
in  the  face  ;  and  yet,  what  can  possibly  be  fresher 
and  more  engaging  than,  for  instance,  the  masses 
of  Parsley-fern  to  be  met  with  in  the  stony  places 
of  the  granitic  Alps  ?  Wood-Sorrel,  too,  will  come 
out  into  the  open ;  so  will  the  little  Alpine  London 


176   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

Pride  {Saxifraga  cuneifolia)  and  the  little  Yellow 
Violet ;  so,  also,  will  the  May  Lily  or  False  Lily- 
of-the- Valley  {Smilacina  bifolia).  In  England, 
Asti^antia  majo7\  when  found,  is  said  to  seek  the 
partial  shade  of  copse  and  spinny,  but  here  on 
these  Alpine  fields  it  is  in  the  full  sunshine — and 
looking  very  much  the  better  for  such  boldness. 
It  is  as  though  the  higher  plants  climb,  the  less 
they  fear  the  light,  extraordinarily  searching  though 
this  latter  be ;  it  is  as  though  they  revel  in  the 
purity,  and,  casting  retirement  to  the  winds,  take 
on  a  new  and  healthier  joy  in  life. 

There  is,  perhaps,  just  one  other  matter  calling 
for  special  attention:  the  grouping  of  colours. 
Alpine  fields  own  immense  variety  in  this  regard. 
Some  will  be  almost  of  uniform  tint,  while  others 
are  of  a  bewildering,  diverse  blend.  One  will  be 
blue  and  white  {Campanula  rhomboidalis  and  Ox- 
eye  Daisy) ;  another  will  be  blue  and  red  {Salvia 
pratensis  and  Lychnis  diocia)  ;  another,  yellow  and 
pink  (the  Globe-Flower  and  the  Bistort)  ;  while 
another  will  be  a  close,  irregular  mixture  of 
some  score  or  more  of  colours,  with  no  one  in 
particular  predominating.  Although  Nature  in 
her  wildness  is  almost  invariably  "happy,"  it  is 
only  natural  that  some  of  her  results  should  be 


i'raga  cuneifoUa) 
Vioict ;  so,  also,  will  the  May  Lily  or  t  alse  J 
of-the-V alley    {Smilacina    bifoUa).      In    F 
Astrantia  fnajor,  when  found,  is  said  f-o 
p;  and   spis 


and,  casting  winds, 

ASTRANTIA    MAJOR,    A.  MINOR,    and    the 


Apollo  butterflj:. 


the 


Some  ^ 

are  of 

!)!ae  ;tr  hoidatis 


Flower  Bistort 


particular   predominating.      Alth. 
>st  inva' 


SOME  WAYS  AND  MEANS  177 

happier  than  others  ;  and  it  is  well  to  take  note 
of  the  best  she  can  do.  Personally,  I  find  her 
happiest  when  she  keeps  her  palette  simple,  paint- 
ing broadly,  and  not  indulging  in  Segantini-like 
technique.  And  surely  her  simpler  floral  harmonies 
are  among  the  perpetual  delights  of  the  Alps, 
and  incapable  of  being  bettered  by  even  the 
most  fancifully  fastidious  of  "  post-impressionists  "  ? 
What  could  be  more  charming  than,  for  instance, 
the  simple  combination  of  pale  yellow  and  paper- 
white,  or  of  rosy-pink  and  rich  mauve  when,  as  is 
quite  usual,  Biscutella  and  Cerastium,  or  Saponaria 
ocymoides  and  Calaminfha  alpina  are  luxuriating 
around  and  among  the  rocks ;  or  when  blue  Myosotis 
and  white  Paradise  Lily,  or  canary-coloured  Crepis 
and  sky-blue  Veronica,  or  white  Potentilla  and 
rosy-mauve  Geranium,  or  vivid  orange  Arnica  and 
lilac  Orchids  are  blooming  in  important  numbers 
side  by  side  among  the  grasses  ?  I  do  not  advo- 
cate formality — the  formality  depicted  in  Andrew 
Marvell's  lines  : 

"  See  how  the  flowers,  as  at  parade, 
Under  their  colours  stand  displayed  ""' : 

which  suggests  the  careful  horrors  of  bedding-out. 
A  certain  negligence   is   imperative ;  we  may  be 
12 


178  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

studious  as  regards  effect,  but  we  must  not  show 
it.  The  question  of  colour-grouping  is  certainly 
one  worthy  of  careful  consideration  ;  for  if  garden- 
ing is  not  exactly  an  art  that  "  doth  mend  Nature," 
it  is,  at  all  events,  a  selective  art,  picking  and 
choosing  of  Nature's  best  and  bringing  this  to- 
gether within  special  confines,  there  to  show  in 
a  series  of  close-knit  tableaux  that  which  wild 
Nature  spreads  out  far  and  wide  among  much 
that,  aesthetically,  is  of  secondary  "happiness." 


L'ENVOI 

"  But  none  has  hope  like  tliine  ! 

Tliou  through  tlie  fiehls  and  through  the  woods  dost  stray, 
Roaming  tlie  country-side,  a  truant  boy. 
Nursing  thy  project  in  unclouded  joy. 
And  every  doubt  long  blown  by  time  away." 

Matthew  Arnold,  The  Scholar-Gipsy, 

Pen-  and  brush-craft  pale  their  ineffectual  fires 
before  the  beauty  of  Alpine  grass-lands,  and  flawful 
and  halting  has  been  the  manner  of  presenting 
my  subject ;  but  1  hope  a  sufficient  glimpse  of  its 
fascination  and  importance  will  have  been  caught 
to  raise  enthusiasm  to  the  point  of  making  amends 
for  a  neglectful  past.  Whatever  may  be  the  ver- 
dict upon  the  question  of  introducing  Swiss  floral 
wealth  to  our  meadows  generally,  perhaps  enough 
has  been  said  to  make  it  plain  that  very  many  of 
the  mountain  field-flowers  cry  aloud  to  be  treated 
as  field-Jlowers  in  every  Alpine  garden  where  there 
is   scope    for,   and    pretensions    to,   completeness. 

179 


180  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

And  I  believe  that  the  cry  will  be  answered.  I 
believe  that  the  value  of  the  fields,  in  the  economy 
of  Alpine  plant-life,  has  only  to  be  placed  earnestly 
before  conscientious  gardeners  and  lovers  of 
flowers  for  it  to  meet  with  immediate  and  be- 
coming diligence.  I  believe  it  will  be  seen  that 
a  rockwork  is  not  the  first,  last,  and  only  home 
we  may  make  for  Alpines  in  England,  and  that 
it  is  as  unlovely  as  it  is  unjust  to  tar  all  of  them 
with  one  and  the  same  brush  and  think  that, 
because  they  are  called  Alpines,  they  must  neces- 
sarily be  given  a  perch  dominating  the  rest  of  the 
garden.  I  therefore  believe  that  one  more  of  our 
cherished  conventionalities  will  soon  be  relegated 
to  the  "Valhalla  of  bad  taste." 

We  "  are  still  looking  through  a  kaleidoscope 
at  ever-changing  views,"  and  "  the  eternal  verities  " 
have  as  yet  by  no  means  been  sounded  to  their 
bases.  If  "  Bads  worth  "  can  find  sufficient  sanction 
to  talk  like  this  of  auction  bridge,  with  how  much 
more  reason  may  it  not  be  said  of  gardening  and 
the  cult  of  Nature?  It  is  doubtful  if  we  have 
reached  much  that  is  final  in  anything;  certainly 
not  in  gardening.  Gardening — or  flower-garden- 
ing, since  that  is  the  department  with  which  we 
are   here   dealing — flower-gardening  is   something 


UENVOI  181 

more  than  the  mere  growing  of  blossoms  to  please, 
something  more  than  the  mere  forming  of  a  living 
herbarium,  something  more  than  the  mere  creation 
or  collecting  of  "novelties"  for  the  sole  sake  of 
novelty ;  there  is  something  deeper  and  more  diffi- 
cult to  talk  about  than  that — something  none  the 
less  real  because  largely  indefinable.  As  earnest, 
thinking  gardeners,  our  views  and  sentiments  are 
not  limited  to  a  mere  toying  with  the  soil  and 
with  attractive  vegetation.  We  are  not  children — 
though  we  ought  to  be,  and  are.  I  mean,  we  do 
not  garden — we  do  not  build  Alpine  rockworks 
and  plant  them  with  gay  flowers  quite  so  irre- 
sponsibly as  children  build  mud-castles  and  stick 
them  over  with  coloured  oddments.  There  is  a 
significant  profundity  in  the  meanest  of  our  efforts — 
even  in  the  building  of  mud-castles ;  and  in  the 
maturer  effort  of  gardening  it  is  only  natural  that 
this  should  be  of  richer  meaning. 

Gardening  is  a  saving  grace  in  any  nation.  It 
would  be  invidious  to  name  examples ;  enough 
to  say  that  nations  with  marked  propensities  for 
gardening  figure  prominently  in  past  and  present 
history.  Such  nations,  though  "insurgent  sons," 
are  necessarily  less  so  than  they  would  otherwise  be  ; 
for  they  live  nearer  to  the  truth  of  things,  nearer 


182   FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

to  Nature.  Gardening  touches  well-springs  of  being, 
and  helps  materially  towards  the  moral  advance- 
ment of  a  race.  It  is  affected  by  the  same  funda- 
mental "psychic"  influence  as  is  painting,  or, 
indeed,  any  other  of  our  kindred  enthusiasms.  In 
it  we  are  striving,  not  so  much  to  express  Nature, 
as  to  express  ourselves  through  Nature ;  not  so 
much  to  transcribe  Nature  line  for  line,  as  to 
translate — as  creatures  who  consider  ourselves  so 
much  apart  from,  so  much  above,  Nature — what 
we  think  we  feel,  perhaps  see,  and  almost  certainly 
dream  in  her.  And  far  be  it  from  me  to  aver 
that  we  are  not  striving  even  to  supplant  Nature — 
seemingly  a  mad  ambition,  for  in  the  end,  do  as 
we  will,  Nature,  and  nothing  but  Nature,  has  found 
expression.  Yet  it  is  not  quite  as  mad  an  ambition 
as  a  first  inspection  would  lead  us  to  suppose. 
Indeed,  it  is  good,  if  not  actually  great ;  for  it  is 
the  biggest  of  the  many  bunches  of  carrots  dang- 
ling in  front  of  the  human  animal's  nose,  inducing 
him  to  keep  "  pegging  away." 

Independent  and  original  as  we  may  consider 
ourselves,  we  yet  from  time  to  time  have  to  turn 
and  take  our  cue  from  Nature.  She,  after  all, 
is  the  source  at  which  we  must  refresh  our  jaded 
imaginations;  she   is  the   storehouse   from  which 


isii  flow?:r-fif,' 

t  o  Nature.    Gardening  touches  well-springs  of  being 
and  helps  materially  towards  the  moral  advance 
Tient  of  a  race.     It  is  affected  by  the  same  funda 
uental    "psychic"  influence    as    is    painting,   ov 
inde<  )f  our  kindred  enthu^ 


le  for   line,   as  to 
consider  ourselves  s. 

,  :,     _    h  above,  Nature — whij 

we  think  we  feel,  perhaps  see,  and  almost  certainly 

7^^%e  ^WILLOW     GENTIAN     (G.     asclcpiadea) 
tnat  we  ^i-and  the  Alpine  Cotton  Grass  (Eriophoruui 

seemingly  Sf/'  endizcn). 

we  will,  Nature,  and  nothmg  but  Nature,  has  found 
exprc  '  '  ^'-^^  '"^  '  •  ^^  quite  as  mad  an  ambitio? 
as  a  '    lead   us   to   suppose 

Indeed,  it  is  good  ctually  great;  for  it  i> 

I-     '  t  of  the  iviany  ounches  of  carrots  dang- 

i  at  of  tlie  human  animal's  nose,  inducing 

him  to  keep  "  pegging  away." 

Independent  and  original  as  we   may  co»    ■ 
ourselves,  we  yet  from  time  to  time  have  tc 
and  take  our  cue  from  Nature.     She,   afte 
*ce  at  which  we  must  ref' 


UENVOI  183 

we  must  draw  new  blood,  new  energy,  new  ideas ; 
she  instigates  our  ideals  and  holds  the  cause  and 
means  for  inspiration ;  without  her  promptings, 
in  fact,  we  should  go  bankrupt.  In  the  Buddhist 
'*  Sankhya-Karika  "  we  read  how,  "  like  a  danseuse 
who  retires  from  the  dance  after  she  has  shown 
herself  to  the  crowd,  Nature  retires  after  she  has 
shown  herself  in  all  her  splendour  to  the  soul " — 
after  she  has  shoxvn  herself  to  the  soul.  The  aim 
of  the  best  art  is  not  slavishly  to  copy  Nature, 
but  to  catch  and  translate  the  dreams  she  suggests. 

"  Stoop  to  earth's  service,  and  behold 
All  heaven  shall  blossom  into  gold." 

We  may  paint  as  much  as  we  like  "  from  imagina- 
tion "  or  "  inner  consciousness,"  but  if  Nature  were 
not  all  the  time  posing  at  our  elbow,  and  if  we 
did  not  from  time  to  time  cast  covert  glances  at 
her  as  our  model,  our  picture  would  never  be 
"  inspired " ;  it  would  either  harp  tediously  upon 
ancient  themes  and  methods,  or  else  "advance" 
into  sheer  chaotic  incoherence. 

And  so  it  is  that  we  have  now  come,  I  think,  to 
a  time  in  the  history  and  use  of  Alpine  rockworks 
when  we  must  turn  again  to  Nature  for  fresh 
inspiration,   for    improved    ideals.      The    time    is 


184    FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

passing  when  Alpine  conditions  were  held  to 
be  sufficiently  represented  by  the  rock-fortresses 
of  the  Alps, 

"  And  all  the  garrisons  were  flowers.'" 

Of  course,  these  garrisons  are,  and  must  always 
remain,  the  most  prominent  and  unique  of  vegeta- 
tion's Alpine  marvels,  but  they  cannot  properly  be 
thought  to  speak  for  all ;  they  are,  as  it  were,  the 
militant  eclaireurs  set  upon  the  craggy  heights  and 
watching  over  the  peaceful  hosts  of  their  fellows 
upon  the  fields.  As  is  the  way  in  all  our  activities, 
we  hug  a  truth  a  long  time  before  becoming  aware 
that  it  is  not  the  whole  truth.  Perception  has  small 
beginnings,  advance  is  slow,  and  exaggeration, 
meantime,  is  the  very  breath  of  progress.  We 
ill-use  a  truth  by  over-kindness  ;  our  ecstasy  forces 
it  to  lie.  We  dwell  extravagantly  upon  it  until  it 
becomes  partially  false  ;  then  we  move  on.  And 
this,  I  find,  is  what  has  happened,  and  is  happening, 
in  the  case  of  Alpine  rockworks.  We  have  for 
long  dwelt  alone  with  them  as  with  the  last  word 
upon  the  housing  of  Alpine  plants  ;  we  have  been 
so  absorbed  in  them  as  the  whole  truth,  that 
we  have  seen  no  need,  even  no  possibility,  for 
further  helpful  inquiry  of  Nature.     But  the  time 


UENVOI  185 

has  now  arrived  when  our  truth  is  reveaHng  itself 
as  only  a  half-truth,  and,  turning  to  glance  again 
at  our  model  for  a  fresh  advance  in  inspiration,  we 
notice  in  her  a  feature  which  had  previously  escaped 
us — the  fields. 

"  Many  people  enter  God's  Temple  through 
the  doorway  of  Beauty "  ;  and  upon  this  count, 
also,  the  fields  of  the  Alps  are  of  obvious  import. 
I  venture  to  think  that  an  Alpine  field,  with  all  its 
concomitant  "accident"  and  consequent  variety, 
will  have  more  to  say  to  a  larger  number  of 
men  and  women  than  will  a  rockwork  alone  ;  I 
venture  to  think  that  a  person  who  would  not  stop 
longer  than  to  patronise  a  rockwork,  would  stand 
arrested  and  absorbed  before  the  grass-lands  and 
their  varied  features.  To  the  mass  of  mortals  who 
are  not  bespoken  specialists  in  higher  Alpines,  the 
meadows  have  no  superiors  in  breadth,  directness, 
and  simplicity  of  appeal.  They  are  places  where 
the  "  man-in-the-street  "  is  at  once  at  home.  They 
require  no  special  enthusiasm  to  make  them  accept- 
able. Their  beauty  is  as  apparent  to  the  "  vulgar  " 
as  it  is  to  the  elect;  their  charm  is  interesting 
to  all. 

And  this  interest  means  more  than  mere  pleasure. 


186  FLOWER-FIELDS  OF  ALPINE  SWITZERLAND 

more  than  a  superficial  tickling  of  the  senses. 
It  entails  a  mint  of  meaning  for  the  soul.  Yes, 
the  soul.  No  gardener,  no  Nature-lover,  need 
be  shy  of  admitting  he  has  a  soul ;  for  it  is 
precisely  this  which  makes  Nature-lovers  of  us 
all,  precisely  this  which  plays  so  big  a  part 
in  our  admiration  of  the  fields.  "  Breathes  there 
a  man  with  soul  so  dead "  who  will  not  linger 
lovingly  over  mountain  meadows  tossed  or  rolling 
like  a  multi-coloured  sea,  with  sunlight  playing 
amid  the  blues,  mauves,  reds,  and  yellows,  breaking 
these  into  endless  intermediary  tints  ;  and  with 
butterflies  seemingly  in  such  light-hearted  flight, 
skipping  and  flitting  blithely,  airily,  for  all  the 
world  like  flowers  come  suddenly  to  sentient 
life  ?  Breathes  there  a  man  who  will  not  find  in 
these  meadows  and  their  teeming  gaiety  "  a  vital- 
ising passion,  calling  to  life  the  shrouded  thoughts 
and  unsuspected  forces  of  the  heart "  ? 

From  Crocus  to  "  Crocus  "  ;  from  the  first  pale, 
dainty  flush  of  spring  to  the  last  full  flush  of 
autumn  ;  from  the  shy  and  hesitating  youth  of  the 
year  to  the  time  when  all  at  length  "  is  rounded 
with  a  sleep,"  these  meadows  are  an  intimate  joy 
and  refreshment.  Nature  herself  sets  so  much 
store  by  them  that  when   they   become,  as   they 


L'ENVOI  187 

must    become,    recognised     components     of    our 
Alpine  gardens,  it  shall  be  said  she 

"  Now  was  almost  won 
To  think  her  part  was  done, 
And  that  her  reign  had  here  its  last  fulfilling. 
She  knew  such  harmony  alone 
Could  hold  all  Heaven  and  Earth  in  happier  unison.'" 


D.  H,  HILL  UBRARY 

North  Carolina  State  College 


'  Farewell !  farewell  to  the  field, 
Farewell  to  the  sunny  lawn  ! " 

Schiller.,  William  Tell. 


INDEX 


Achillea  nana,  80 
Aconitum  Lycoctonum,  173 
„         napellus,  121,  173 
,,  paniculatum,  173 

Adenostyles  albifrons,  122,  173 
Adonis  aestivalis,  69 
Ajuga  pyramidalis,  31,  77,  83 
Alchemilla,  74 

,,  alpina,  83 

,,  vulgaris,  83 

Alpine  Auricula,  76 
Brier,  85,  105 
Bugle,  83 

Clover,  54,  170,  171 
Crocus,  44 
Crowfoot,  31,  44 
Eglantine,  67,  85,  105,  121 
Flax,  84 

Forget-me-not,  84 
1^1  ot weed,  85 
Lettuce,  122 
London  Pride,  176 
Plantain,  76 
Polygala,  31 
Anemone  alpina,  17,  32 

,,         narcissiflora,  63,  83 
„         aulphurea,  83,  128 
Antennaria  dioica,  84 


Anthericum  Liliago,  84,  164 

,,  ramosum,  84 

Anthyllis  vulneraria,  77,  84,  116, 

170 
Antirrhinum,  78 
Arahis  alpina,  174 
Arnica,  72,  116,  129,  177 
Artemisia,  77 
Asparagus,  137 
Aspidium  Lonchitia ,  175 
Aster  alpinus,  89,  124 
As trantia  major,  120,  129,  154,161, 
176 
,,  minor,  120 

Atriplex  deltoidea,  81 
Autumn  Crocus,  130,  134-146 
Azalea,  103 


Bartsia  alpina,  30,  57,  117 
Bastard  Toadflax,  116 
Bearded  Campanula,  54 

Harebell,  81 
Bell-Gentian,  57,  70,  114 
Berberis,  144,  172 
Bilberry,  129,  144 
Bindweed,  157,  166 
Bird  Cherry,  173 
Bird's-eye  Primula,  4G,  135 


189 


190 


INDEX 


Bird's-foot  Trefoil,  84 

Biscutella  laevigata,  31,  57,  84,  115, 

164, 177 
Bistort,  63,  74,  85,  115,  120,  164, 

176 
Bladder  Campion,  85,  165,  167 
Bluebell,  152 
Blue  Bottle,  74,  84 
Box-leaved  Polygala,  24 
Bramo-Vaco,  139 
Brown  Gentian,  120 
Bugle,  31,  77 

Bulhocodium  vernum,  146,  163 
Butcher's  Broom,  137 
Buttercup,  115,  120, 149,  152,  165, 

166 
Butterfly  Orchis,  72,  85,  104 


Calamintha  alpina,  31,   116,   174, 

177 
Galtha  paluatris,  30,  166 
Campanula  harhata,    72,    81,    115, 
170 
„  peraicifolia,  122,  170 

„  rhomboidalis,  84,  115, 

158,  160,165,  176 
„  rotundifolia,  84,  165 

„  Scheuchzeri,  115,  127 

spicata,  121,  170 
„  thyraoides,  121 

Campion,  84,  85 
Cardamine  resedifolia,  80 
Carduua  defloratua,  170 
Carlina  acaulia,  122 
,,       vulgar  ia,  122 
Carthusian  Pink,  84 
Catchfly,  84 
Cat's-ear,  84 
Centaurea  montana,  84,  164 


Centaurea  nigra,  165 
„  acabioaa,  120 

uniflora,  120,  165 
Cephalanthera  enaifolia,  85,  173 
„  pallena,  173 

rubra,  85,  173 
Ceraatium  arvense,  84 
Char  de  Venua,  121 
Cherry-tree,  17 

Chrysanthemum  leUrCanthemum,lQ5 
Cinquefoil,  77,  85 
Clary,  85,  154 
Clover,  72 

Cceloglossum  viridis,  85 
Colchicum  alpinum,  140-146 

„  autumnalia,    130,    134- 

143,  160, 165 
Colchique,  139 
Coltsfoot,  45 
Columbine,  164 
Corn,  118 
Cornflower,  69,  99 
Coronilla  varia,  122 
Cowslip,  23,  149,  164 
Crepia  aurea,  115 
Crocus,  23,  24,  71 

„    nudiflorua,  137 

,,    aativua,  139 

„    vernua,  163 
Cudweed,  84 
Currant,  17 


Daffodil,  17,  32,  152,  163 
Daisy,  149,  166 
Dandelion,  19,  150,  166 
Daphne,  109 
Dendrobium,  75 

Dianthus  Carthusianorum,  84,  122 
„         neglectus,  80 


INDEX 


191 


Dianthus  superbus,  121,  173 
„         sylvestria,  121,  122 

Digitalis  ambigua,  1 2 1 
„         luten,  122 

Dog  Rose.  108,  129 

Dyer's  Weed,  85 


Echium  vulgare,  84 
Edelweiss,  35-39,  124 
Eglantine,  17,  144 
Epilobium,  80 
Epipactia  atrorubens,  173 

„         lati folia,  173 
Eritrichium  nanum,  42 
Eryngium  alpinum,  1 70 
Euphrasia  alpina,  84 

„  minima,  84 

officinalis,  72,  73,  84 
Everlasting  Pea,  67,  169 
Exobasidium  rhododendri,  108 
Eyebright,  73,  84 


Fair  Maid  of  France,  85,  115 
False  Lily-of-the- Valley,  176 
Felwort,  41 
Field  Mouse-ear,  84 
Field  Gentian,  120 
„      Poppy,  68,  99 
Flax,  122 
Foxglove,  152 
French  Willow,  80 
Frog  Orchis,  85 


163 

Garlic,  137 
Gentiana  amarella,  41 


Oentiana  asclepiadea,  90 

brachyphylla,  141 
campestris,  115,  120 
excisa,  24,  89,  157 
nivalis,  117,  157 
punctata,  120 
purpurea,  120 
verna,  24,  30,  35-47,  57, 
141,  157,  175 

Geranium  sylvaticum,  84,  115,  154, 
160, 1G4,  177 

Geum  montanum,  24,  31 
,,     rivale,  84 

Globe-Flower,  23,  56,  85,  164,  176 

Globularia  cordifolia,  84 

Goat's  Beard,  173 

Golden  Thistle,  122 

Grass-of -Parnassus,  127 

Greater  Astrantia,  82 

Grimm  the  Collier,  120 

Groundsel,  80 

Gymnadenia  albida,  104,  116 
„  conopsea,  85,  164 

„  odoratissima,  85 

Gypsophila  repens,  174 


Habenaria  bifolia,  85 

„  chlorantha,  173 

,,  viridis,  85 

Hard-heads,  120,  165 

Hawkweed,  82,  120 

Hawthorn,  152 

Heather,  102,  128,  129 

Helianthemum  alpestre,  116 
„  vulgare,  174 

Helleborine,  85 

Hepatica,  23 

Herb  Paris,  137 
'    Herbst-Zeitlose,  140 


192 


INDEX 


Hieracium  alpinum,  115 

„  aurantiacum,  120 

Hippocrepis  comosa,  84 

Holly-fern,  175 

Honeysuckle,  109,  121,  173 

Horseshoe  Vetch,  84 

Hypochosris  maculata,  115 

„  uniflora,  115,  165 

Hyssop,  122 


Jacob's  Ladder,  128,  154 
Jasione  montana,  122,  170 
Juniperus  nana,  172 
Jupiter's  Distaff,  121 


K 

Kidney  Vetch,  77,  84 
King  of  the  Alps,  42 
Knapweed,  84 
Knee  Holly,  137 
Knobweed,  120 
Knotweed,  85 


Laburnum,  17 
Ladies'  Fingers,  84 
Lady's  Mantle,  83 
„       Smock,  80 
Laitue  des  Alpes,  122 
Larkspur,  69 

Laserpitium  latifolium,  173 
Lathyrus  heterophyllua,  84,  1 70 

,,         luteus,  173 

,,         sylvestris,  84 
Le  Bas  du  Bon  Dieu,  41 


Leontopodium  alpinum,  35—39 
Leopard's  Bane,  122 
Lesser  Foxglove,  122 
Lilium  croceum,  17,  173 

„      Martagon,  173 
Lily-of-the-Valley,  137 
Linaria  alpina,  11 
Linum  alpinum,  84,  164,  170 

„      tenuifolium,  122,  170 
Loelia,  75 
Lonicera  alpigena,  173 

„        nigra,  173 
Lotus  corniculatus,  84 
Lousewort,  85 

Lychnis  dioica,  84,  161,  164,  176 
Flos-cuculi,  84,  164 

,,        viscaria,  84,  161 


M 


Marguerite,  75 

Marsh-Marigold,   30,   46,   57,    71, 

166,  167 
Martagon  Lily,  116,  120,  165,  173 
Masterwort,  120,  154 
May  Lily,  176 
Meadow  Clary,  85,  154,  165 

„        Rue,  121 

Saffron,  139 

„        Sage,  85,  154 
Mealy  Primrose,  46,  56,  71,  135 
Mespilus  oxyacantha,  79 
Meum  athamanticum,  173 
Micheli's  Daisy,  30,  57,  72 
Milkwort,  85 
Monkshood,  121,  169 
Mountain  Cornflower,  84 

„         Everlasting  Pea,  84 
„         Geum,  71 
Mulgedium  alpinum,  122,  173 
Mullein,  122 


INDEX 


Muscari  comosum,  84,  164 

Myosotis,  24,  177 

,,         alpeatrifi,  84,  164 
,,         palustria,  IIG 


N 


Naked  Boy,  139 

„       Lucy,  139 
Narcissus  poeticus,  17,  32,  158,  164 

,,         Pseudo-narcissus,  163 
Nettle,  166 
Nigritella  nigra,  85 
Nottingham  Catchfly,  167 


Oak-apple,  108 

(Eil-de-chat,  41 

Onion,  137 

Onobrychis  vicicefolia,  84,  170 

Ononis,  93 

natrix,  122,  170 
„        rotundifolia,  122 
Orache,  81 
Orchids,  23,  72,  85,  116,  120,  149, 

158,  166,  177 
Orchis  conopsea,  164 

,,       latifolia,  85 

,,      maculata,  85,  164 

,,      mascula,  164 

„      Morio,  164 

,,      ustulata,  85 
Ornithogalum  nutans,  164 

„  pyrenaicum,  137 

umbellatum,  138, 163 
Orohua  luteus,  121 
Ox-eye  Marguerite,  116,  165,  166, 

176 
Oxlip,  164 

13 


Pansy,  69 

Paradise  Lily,  63,  72,  85,  158,  164, 

177 
Paradisia  Liliastrum,  85,  158,  164 
Parsley-fern,  175 
Parsnip,  152 

Pedicular  is  tuberosa,  31,  85 
Pheasant-eye  Narcissus,  32,  164 
Phyteuma  betonicifolium,    54,    85, 
115,  158,  165,  167 
,,  hemisphcericum,  \\Q 

Micheli,  lid 
,,  orbiculare,  85,  115,  165 

,,  spicata,  154 

Pimpinella  magna  rosea,  85 
Pinguicula,  30 
Pink,  169 
Pinkwort,  80 
Plantago  alpina,  54 
Plantain,  157,  166 
Plantanthera  bifolia,  85 

,,  chlorantha,  173 

Poa  alpina,  171 
Polemonium  cozruleum,   127,    154, 

165 
Polygala  alpestris,  85 
,,         vulgaris,  85 
Polygonatum  verticillatum,  173 
Polygonum  Bistorta,  85,  164 
Polystichum  Filix-mas,  175 
Poppy,  68,  99 
Potentillarupestris,  31,  77,  85,  115, 

164,  177 
Primrose,  23,  37,  46,  93,  152 
Primula  farinosa,  30,  62,  167 
Prunus  avium,  173 


Queen  of  the  Fields,  121 


194 


INDEX 


Radish,  118 

Ragged  Robin,  84,  164 

Rampion,  54,  85,   115,   120,   154, 

165,  167 
Ranunculus  aconitifolius ,  85,  115, 
164, 167 
„  acris,  165,  166 

„  hulbosus,  165,  166 

Raspberry,  17 
RedCatchfly,  84,  164 
Reseda  luteola,  85 
Rest-Harrow,  93 
Rhinanthus  angustifolius,  85 
Rhododendron  ferrugineum,  41,  89, 
102-113,117,129, 
144, 172 
„  hirsutum,  102-113 

,,  ponticum,  102 

Robin's  Pincushion,  108 
Rosaalpina,  85,  105,  172 

,,     pomifera,  172 
Rosage,  106 
Rose  des  Alpes,  106 
Rue  des  Alpes,  106 


Saffron,  139 

Safra  des  prats,  139 

Sage,  77,  85 

Sainfoin,  84,  170 

St.  Bruno's  Lily,  85,  114 

Salvia  glutinosa,  121,  173 

„      pratensis,   69,    74,    77,   85, 
115,  154,  158,  160,  164,  176 

Sambucus  racemosa,  172 

Saponaria  ocymoides,  31,  77,  116, 
174 

Saxifraga  cuneifolia,  176 


Saxifrage,  169 
Scabiosa  lucida,  85,  115 
Scilla,  23 

„     bifolia,  163 
Sedum,  77,  129,  169,  170 
Sempervivum,  169,  170 
Senecio  Doronicum,  80,  122 
Sihhaldia  procumbens,  54 
Silene  Gucubalus,  165,  167 

,,      inflata,  85 

„      nutans,  167 

„      rupestris,  116,  174 
Smilacina  bifolia,  176 
Snake-root,  85 
Snakeweed,  164 
Snapdragon, 78 
Soapwort,  77 

Soldanella,  23,  24,  71,  89,  175 
Solomon's  Seal,  173 
Sorrel,  151,  166 
Speedwell,  9,  73 
Spircea  Aruncus,  121,  173 
Star  of  Bethlehem,  137,  163 
Strawberry,  17 
Stonecrop,  77 
Sulphur  Anemone,  31,  34,  46,  53, 

54 
Sylvan  Geranium,  63 


Thalictrum     aquilegifolium,     121, 

169, 173 
Thesium  alpinum,  72,  74,  116 
Thyme,  118 
Toadflax,  77 
Trefoil  Valerian,  85 
Trifolium  alpinum,  54,  170,  171 
Trollius  europcBUs,  85,  164 
Tue-chien,  139 
Turk's-cap  Lily,  121 


INDEX 


195 


Umbelliferffi,  116,  165 
Umbilicaria  virginis,  46 


Vache,  139 

Valeriana  montana,  122 

,,  trvpteris,  85 

Vanilla  Orchis,  85 
Veilleuse,  139 
Veillotte,  139 

Veratrum  album,  116,  158 
Verbascum  phlomoides,  122,  170 
Vernal  Gentian,  35-47,  58,  72,  104, 

127 
Veronica  Chamcedrya,  73 

,,        saxatilis,  116,  171 

,,         spicata,  158 

,,         urticoefolia,  170 
Vicia  onobrychioides,  121,  170 
Viola  alpina,  1 75 
„     calcarata,  32,  41,  53,  89,  157 
„     tricolor,  69 
Violet,  23,  164 


Violon,  139 
Viper's  Bugloss,  84 

\V 

Water  Avens,  84 

Weld,  85 

Willow  Gentian,  90 

„       Herb,  129 
Wood  Anemone,  23 

„      Campion,  84 

„      Crane's-bill,  84,  154,  165 

,,      Everlasting  Pea,  84 

„      Sorrel,  175 
Wormwood,  77 


Yarrow,  80 

Yellow  Eyebright,  84 

Foxglove,  121 

Gentian,  116 

Lousewort,  85 

Rattle,  85,  116 

Violet,  45,  176 


PRINTED  BY 

HAZELL,  WATSON  AND  VINBY,  LD. 

LONDON   AND   AYLESBURY. 


st^fr"""""^  ""'«"«»  ^".".He. 


